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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



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SCRIBNER'S SERIES OF SCHOOL 
READING. 



In Uniform Binding: ; eacli i2nio, net, 60 Cents. 



A Child's Garden of Verses. By Robert Louis Stevenson. Introduction 

by Lloyd Osbourne. Illustrated. 
The Boy General. By Mrs. George A. Custer and Mary E. Burt. Illustrated. 
The Howells Story Book. By William Dean Howells. Selected and ar- 
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KRAG AND JOHNNY BEAR 



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Krag. 



KRAG AND JOHNNY BEAR 

WITH PICTURES 

BY 

ERNEST THOMPSON SETON 

AUTHOR OF "WILD ANIMALS I HAVE KNOWN," "LIVES OF THE 

HUNTED," "TRAIL OF THE SANDHILL STAG," 

"BIOGRAPHY OF A GRIZZLY," "ART 

ANATOMY OF ANIMALS," 

ETC. 



Being the Personal Histories of 
KRAG 
RANDY 

JOHNNY BEAR S- 
CHINK 



NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER^S SONS 

1902 




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Twj OoriM KEotfvM 

iAR. 14 1902 

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Copyright, 1901, by 
ERNEST SETON-THOMPSON 



Copyright, 1902, by 
ERNEST THOMPSON SETON 



THE CAXTON PRESS 
NEW YORK. 



NOTE TO THE READER 

This volume bears the same relation to '* The 
Lives of the Hunted'' that '' Lobo, Rag and 
Vixen'' does to '' Wild Animals I Have Known'' 

Krag is somewhat shortened. The last half is 
told with little change, as I got it from Scotty 
arid his friends. The adventures described in 
the first part really happened to other Mountain 
Rams, 

Randy the Troubadour is a composite charac- 
ter. In the stories of Chink and fohnny Bear 
there is hardly any deviation from the facts, 

Ernest Thompson Set on 



♦ 



Wyndygoul^ Coscob^ Conn, 
February lOy igos 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



FACING 
PAGE 



Krag ....... Frontispiece 

Randy Drew the Line at Feather Beds . . 80 

But Johnny Wanted to See 108 

Trembling with Fear and Weakness, He was 

Making His Last Stand 140 









KRAG 
THE KOOTENAY RAM 



.JK 






% rFS^"^<.j 







KRAG 
THE KOOTENAY RAM 

Part I 

A GREAT broad web of satin, shining 
white, and strewn across, long clumps 
and trailing wreaths of lilac — almost 
white — wistaria bloom — pendant, shining, and 
so delicately wrought in palest silk that still 
the web was white ; and in and out and trailed 
across, now lost, now plain, two slender twin- 
ing intertwining chains of golden thread. 



I see a broken upland in the far Northwest. 
Its gray and purple rocks are interpatched 
with colors rich and warm, the new-born colors 
of the upland spring, the greatest springtime 
in the world ; for where there is no winter 
there can be no spring. The gloom is measure 
of the light. So, in this land of long, long win- 
ter night, where nature stints her joys for six 

3 



4 Krag 

hard months, then owns her debt and pays it 
all at once, the spring is glorious compensation 
for the past. Six months' arrears of joy are 
paid in one great lavish outpour. And latest 
May is made the date of payment. Then 
spring, great, gorgeous, six-fold spring holds 
carnival on every ridge. 

Even the sullen Gunder Peak, that pierces 
the north end of the ridge, unsombres just a 
whit. The upland beams with all the flowers 
it might have grown in six lost months ; yet 
we see only one. Here, by our feet and farther 
on, and right and left and onward far away, in 
great, broad acre beds, the purple lupin bloom- 
ing. Irregular, broken, straggling patches 
near, but broader, denser farther on ; till on 
the distant slopes they lie, long, devious belts, 
like purple clouds at rest. 

But late May though it be, the wind is cold ; 
the pools tell yet of frost at night. The White 
Wind blows. Broad clouds come up, and 
down comes driving snow. Over tKe peaks, 
over the upland and over the upland flowers. 
Hoary, gray, and white the landscape grows in 
turn ; and one by one the flowers are painted 
out. But the lupins on their taller, stiffer stems, 
can fight the snow for long, they bow their 
whitened heads beneath its load, then, thanks 



Krag 5 

no little to the wind itself, shake free and stand 
up defiantly straight, and as fits their royal 
purple. And when the snowfall ends as sud- 
denly as it began, the clouds roll by and the 
blue sky sees an upland shining white, but 
streaked and patched with blots and belts of 
lovely purple bloom. 

And wound across, and in and out, are two 
long trails of track. 



II 

Late snow is good trailing, and Scotty Mac- 
dougall took down his rifle, and climbed the 
open hill behind his shanty on Tobacco Creek 
toward the well-known Mountain Sheep range. 
The broad white upland, with its lupin bands 
and patches, had no claim on Scotty^s notice, 
nor was his interest aroused until he came on 
the double trail in the new snow. At a glance 
he read it — two full-grown female Mountain 
Sheep, wandering here and there across the 
country, with their noses to the wind. Scotty 
followed the prints for a short time and learned 
that the Sheep were uneasy, but not alarmed, 
and less than an hour ahead. They had wan- 
dered from one sheltered place to another. 
Once or twice had laid down for a minute, only 



6 Krag 

to rise and move on, apparently not hungry, as 
the abundant food was untouched. 

Scotty pushed forward cautiously, scanning 
the distance and keeping watch on the trail 
without following it, when, all at once, he 
swung round a rocky point into view of a little 
lupin-crowded hollow and from the middle of 
it leaped the two Sheep. 

Up went his rifle, and in a moment one or 
both would have fallen, had not Scotty's eye, 
before he pulled, rested on two tiny new-born 
Lambs that got up on their long wobbly legs, 
in doubt, for a moment, whether to go to the 
new-comer, or to follow their mothers. 

The old Sheep bleated a shrill alarm to their 
young and circled back. The Lambs' moment 
of indecision was over, they felt that their 
duties lay with the creatures that looked and 
smelt like themselves, and coolly turned their 
uncertain steps to follow their mothers. 

Of course Scotty could have shot any or all 
of the Sheep, as he was within twenty yards of 
the farthest, but there is in man an unreasoning 
impulse, a wild hankering to catch alive ; and 
without thinking of what he could do with 
them afterward, Scotty, seeing them so easily 
in his power, leaned his gun in a safe place and 
ran after the Lambs. But the distressed moth- 



Krag 7 

ers had by now communicated a good deal of 
their alarm to their young, the little things 
were no longer in doubt that they should avoid 
the stranger, and when he rushed forward, his 
onset added the necessary final touch and for 
the first time in their brief lives they knew 
danger and instinctively sought to escape it. 
They were not yet an hour old, but nature had 
equipped them with a set of valuable instinctSo 
And though the Lambs were slow of foot com- 
pared with the man, they showed at once a 
singular aptitude at dodging, and Scotty failed 
to secure them at once as he had expected. 

Meanwhile the mothers circled about, bleat- 
ing piteously and urging the little ones to es- 
cape. Scotty, plunging around in his attempt, 
alarmed them more and more, and they put 
forth all the strength of their feeble limbs in 
the effort to go to their mothers. The man 
slipping and scrambling after them was un- 
able to catch either, although more than once 
he touched one with his hand. But very 
soon this serious game of tag was adroitly 
steered by the timid mothers away from the 
lupin bed, and once on the smooth, firmer 
ground, the Lambs got an advantage that quite 
offset the weariness they began to feel, and 
Scotty, dashing and chasing first this way and 



8 Krag 

then that, did not realize that the whole thing 
was being managed by the old ones, till they 
reached the lowest spur of the Gunder Peak, a 
ragged, broken, rocky cliff, up which the moth- 
ers bounded. Then the little ones felt a new 
sense, just as a young duck must when first he 
drops in the water. Their little black rubber 
hoofs gripped the slippery rocks as no man's 
foot can do it, and they soared on their new- 
found mountain wings, up and away, till led by 
their mothers out of sight. 

It was well for them that Scotty had lain 
aside his rifle, for a Sheep at lOO yards was 
as good as dead when he pulled on it. He 
now rushed back for his weapon, but before he 
could harm them, a bank of fog from the Peak 
came rolling between. The same White Wind 
that brought the treacherous trailing snow that 
had betrayed them to their deadliest foe, now 
brought the fog that screened them from his 
view. 

So Scotty could only stare up the cliff and, 
half in admiration, mutter '*the little divils, the 
little divils, too smart for me, and them less'n 
an hour old." 

For now he fully knew the meaning of the 
restless wandering of the old ones, and the 
sudden appearance of two new tiny trails. 



Krag 9 

He spent the rest of the day in bootless hunt- 
ing and at night went home hungry, to dine off 
a lump of fat bacon. 



Ill 

The rugged peaks are not the chosen home, 
but rather the safe and final refuge of the 
Sheep. Once there the mothers felt no fear, 
and thenceforth, in the weeks that followed, 
they took care that in feeding, they should 
never wander far on the open away from their 
haven on the crags. 

The Lambs were of a sturdy stock and grew 
so fast that within a week they were strong 
enough to keep up with their mothers when 
the sudden appearance of a Mountain Lion 
forced them all to run for their lives. 

The snow of the Lambs' birthday had gone 
again within a few hours and all the hills were 
now carpeted with grass and flowers, the 
abundant food for the mothers meant plenty of 
the best for the little ones and they waggled 
their tails in satisfaction as they helped them- 
selves. 

One of the little fellows, whose distinguish- 
ing mark was a very white nose, was stockily 
built, while his playmate, slightly taller and 



lo Krag 

more graceful, was peculiar in having little 
nubbins of horns within a few days of his birth. 

They were fairly matched and frisked and 
raced alongside their mothers or fought to- 
gether the live-long day. One would dash 
away and the other behind him try to butt 
him ; or if they came on an inviting hillock 
they began at once the world-old, world-wide 
game of King of the Castle. One would 
mount and hold his friend at bay. Stamping 
and shaking his little round head, he would 
give the other to understand that he was 
'* King of the Castle" — and then back would 
go their pretty pink ears, the round woolly 
heads would press together and the innocent 
brown eyes roll as they tried to look terribly 
fierce and push and strive till one, forced to 
his knees, would wheel and kick up his heels 
as though to say : *' I didn't want your old cas- 
tle, anyway," but would straightwa}^ give him- 
self the lie by seeking out a hillock for himself 
and, posing on its top with his fiercest look, 
would stamp and shake his head, after the way 
that in their language stands for the rhyming 
challenge in ours, and the combat scene would 
be repeated. 

In these encounters Whitenose generally 
had the best of it because of his greater 



Kraz 1 1 



'\b 



weight, but in the races, Nubbins was easily 
first. His activity was tireless. From morn- 
ing till evening he seemed able to caper and 
jump. 

At night they usually slept close against 
their mothers in some sheltered nook, where 
they could see the sunrise, or rather where 
they could feel it, for that was more important, 
and Nubbins, always active, was sure to be up 
first of the lambs. Whitenose was inclined to 
be lazy, and would stay curled up, the last of 
the family to begin the day of activity. His 
snowy nose was matched by a white patch be- 
hind, as in all Bighorn Sheep, only larger and 
whiter than usual, and this patch afforded so 
tempting a mark that Nubbins never could re- 
sist a good chance to charge at it. He was 
delighted if, in the morning, he could waken 
his little friend by what he considered a tre- 
mendous butt on his beautiful patch of white. 

Mountain Sheep usually go in bands ; the 
more in the band the more eyes for danger. 
But the hunter had been very active in the 
Kootenay country, Scotty in particular had 
been relentless in the hunting. His shanty 
roof was littered over with horns of choice 
Rams, and inside it was half filled with a great 
pile of Sheepskins awaiting a market. So the 



1 2 Krag 

droves of Bighorn were reduced to a few scat- 
tering bands, the largest of which was less 
than thirty, and many, like that of which I 
speak, had but three or four in it. 

Once or twice during the first fortnight of 
June old Scotty had crossed the sheep-range 
with his rifle ready, for game was always in 
season for him, but each time one or the other 
of the alert mothers saw him afar, and either 
led quickly away, or by giving a short, pe- 
culiar '^ sjiiff^' had warned the others not to 
move ; then all stood still as stones, and so es- 
caped, when a single move might easily have 
brought sure death. When the enemy was 
out of sight they quickly changed to some dis- 
tant part of the range. 

One day they had wandered downward 
toward the piney valley, tempted by the rich 
grasses. As they reached the edge of the 
woods, Nubbins's mother held back; she had 
a deep-laid distrust of the lower levels, espe- 
cially where wooded. But Whitenose^s moth- 
er, cropping eagerly at the mountain clover 
that was here in profusion, was led farther on 
till she passed under some rocks among the 
pines. A peculiar smell caused her to start, 
she looked around, then wheeled to quit the 
woods, but a moment later a great Wolverine 



Krag 13 

sprang from the bank on to her back and laid 
her low in an instant. 

Nubbins and his mother got a glimpse of the 
great brown enemy and fled up the rocks, but 
little Whitenose was stupefied with terror. 
He stood by staring and feebly bleating till 
the Wolverine, with merciful mercilessness, 
struck him down as he had done the mother. 



IV 

Nubbins^s mother was a medium-sized, well- 
knit creature. She had horns longer and 
sharper than usual for a Ewe, and they were 
of the kind called Spikehorns or Spikers ; she 
also had plenty of good Sheep sense. The re- 
gion above Tobacco Creek had been growing 
more dangerous each month, thanks chiefly to 
Scotty, but the mother Sheep's intention to 
move out was decided for her by the morn- 
ing's tragedy. 

She careered along the slope of the Gunder 
Peak at full speed, but before going over 
each rising ground she stopped and looked 
over it, ahead and back, remaining still as a 
lichen-patched rock for a minute or more 
in each place while she scanned the range 
around. 



14 Krag 

Once as she did this she saw a dark, moving 
figure on a range behind her. It was old 
Scotty. She was in plain view, but she held 
as still as could be and so escaped notice, and 
when the man was lost behind the rocks she 
bounded away faster than before, with little 
Nubbins scampering after. At each ridge she 
looked out carefully, but seeing no more either 
of her enemy or her friends, she pushed on 
quietly all that day, travelling more slowly as 
the dangerfield was left behind. 

Toward evening, as she mounted the Yak-in- 
i-kak watershed, she caught a glimpse of mov- 
ing forms on a ridge ahead ; after a long watch 
she made out that they were in the uniform of 
Sheep — gray, with white striped stockings and 
white patches on face and stern. They were 
going up wind. Keeping out of view she 
made so as to cross their back trail, which she 
soon found, and thus learned that her guess 
was right. There were the tracks of two 
large Bighorn, but the trail also said that they 
were Rams. According to Mountain Sheep 
etiquette the Rams form one community and 
the Ewes and Lambs another. They must not 
mix or seek each other's society, excepting 
during the early winter, the festal months, the 
time of love and mating. 



Krag IS 

Nubbins's mother, or the Spikerdoe, as we 
may call her, left the trail and went over the 
watershed, glad to know that this was a Sheep 
region. She rested for the night in a hollow, 
and next morning she journeyed on, feeding 
as she went. Presently the mother caught a 
scent that made her pause. She followed it a 
little. Others joined on or criss-crossed, and 
she knew now that she had found the trail of 
a band of Ewes and Lambs. She followed 
steadily, and Nubbins skipped alongside, miss- 
ing his playmate, but making up as far as pos- 
sible by doing double work. 

Within a very few minutes she sighted the 
band, over a dozen in all — her own people. 
The top of her head was just over a rock, so 
that she saw them first, but when Nubbins 
poked up his round head to see, the slight 
movement caught the eye of a watchful 
mother in the flock. She gave the signal that 
turned all the band to statues, with heads their 
way. It was now the Spiker's turn. She 
walked forth in plain view. The band dashed 
over the hill, but circled behind it to the left, 
while Nubbins and his mother went to the 
right. 

In this way their positions in the wind were 
reversed. Formerly she could smell them ; 



1 6 Krdg 

now they could smell her, and, having already 
seen her uniform from afar, they were sure 
her credentials were right. She came cau- 
tiously up to them. A leading Ewe walked 
out to meet her. They snifled and gazed. 
The leader stamped her feet, and the Spiker- 
doe got ready to fight. They advanced, their 
heads met with a '' whack,** then, as they 
pushed, the Spikerdoe twisted so that one of 
her sharp points rested on the other Ewe's ear. 
The pressure became very unpleasant. The 
enemy felt she was getting the worst of it, so 
she sniffed, turned, and, shaking her head, re- 
joined her friends. The Spikerdoe walked 
after her, while little Nubbins, utterly puzzled, 
stuck close to her side. The flock wheeled 
and ran, but circled back, and as the Spiker 
stood her ground, they crowded around her, 
and she was admitted one of their number. 
This was the ceremony, so far as she was con- 
cerned. But Nubbins had to establish his own 
footing. There were some seven or eight 
Lambs in the flock. Most of them were older 
and bigger than he, and, in common with some 
other animals, they were ready to persecute 
the stranger simply because he was strange. 

The first taste of this that Nubbins had was 
an unexpected ** bang " behind. It had always 



Krag 1 7 

seemed very funny to him when he used to 
give Whitenose a surprise of this kind, but 
now there seemed nothing funny about it. It 
was simply anno3dng, and when he turned to 
face the enemy, another one charged from an- 
other direction, and whichever way he turned, 
there was a Lamb ready to butt at him, till 
poor Nubbins was driven to take refuge under 
his mother. Of course she could protect him, 
but he could not stay there always, and the 
rest of the day with the herd was an unhappy 
one for poor Nubbins, but a very amusing one 
for the others. He was so awed by their num- 
bers, the suddenness of it all, that he did not 
know what to do. His activity helped but lit- 
tle. Next morning it was clear that the others 
intended to have some more fun at his ex- 
pense. One of these, the largest, was a stocky 
little Ram. He had no horns yet, but when 
they did come they were just like himself, 
thickset and crooked and rough, so that, read- 
ing ahead, we may style him '^ Krinklehorn." 
He came over and, just as Nubbins rose, hind 
legs first, as is Sheep fashion, the other hit him 
square and hard. Nubbins went sprawling, 
but jumped up again, and in something like a 
little temper went for the bully. Their small 
heads came together with about as much noise 



1 8 Krag 

as two balls of yarn, but they both meant to 
win. Nubbins was aroused now, and he 
dashed for that other fellow. Their heads 
slipped past, and now it was head to shoulder, 
both pounding away. At first Nubbins was 
being forced back, but soon his unusual 
sprouts of horns did good service, and, after 
getting one or two punches in his ribs from 
them, the bully turned and ran. The others, 
standing round, realized that the new-comer 
was fit. They received him as one of their 
number, and the hazing of Nubbins was ended. 



The Spikerdoe soon became known as a very 
wise Sheep, wiser than any other in the flock 
except one, the chosen leader, and that leader 
was no other than the mother of Krinklehorn, 
the little bully. Sheep do not give each other 
names — but they have the idea which in time 
resulted in names with us, they always think of 
their leaders as the Wise One, who is safe to 
follow, and I shall speak of her as such. 

Within a few weeks she was killed by a Moun- 
tain Lion. The herd scattered as the terrible 
animal sprang, and the Spikerdoe led for the 
cliffs, followed by the rest. When she reached 



Krag 19 

a safe place high up, she turned to wait for the 
stragglers, who came up quickly. Then they 
heard from far below a faint '' baak " of a Lamb. 
All cocked their ears and waited. It is not 
wise to answer too quickly, it may be the trick 
of some enemy. But it came again, the familiar 
** baah " of one of their own flock, and Spiker- 
doe answered it. 

A rattling ol stones, a scrambling up banks, 
another *' baah " for guidance and there ap- 
peared among them little Krinklehorn — an 
orphan now. 

Of course he did not know this yet, any more 
than the others did. But as the day wore on 
and no mother came in response to his plaintive 
calls, and as his little stomach began also to cry 
out for something more than grass or water, he 
realized his desolation and *' baahed'' more and 
more plaintively. When night came he was 
cold as well as hungry — he must snuggle up to 
someone or freeze. No one took much notice 
of him, but Spikerdoe, seemingly the new 
leader, called once or twice in answer to his 
call, and almost by accident he drifted near her 
when she lay down and warmed himself against 
her beside his ancient enemy, young Nubbins. 

In the morning he seemed to Mother Spiker- 
doe to be her own, in a limited sense. Rubbing 



20 Krag 

against Nubbins made him smell like her own, 
and when Nubbins set about helping himself to 
a breakfast of warm milk, poor hungry Krinkle- 
horn took the liberty of joining in on the other 
side. Thus Nubbins found himself nose to 
nose and dividing his birthright with his old- 
time enemy. But neither he nor his mother 
made any objection, and thus it was that Krin- 
klehorn was adopted by his mother's rival. 



VI 

There was no one of the others that could 
equal Spikerdoe in sagacity. She knew all the 
range now, and it was soon understood that 
she was to lead. It was also understood that 
Krinklehorn, as well as Nubbins, was her Lamb. 
The two were like brothers in many things. 
But Krinklehorn had no sense of gratitude to 
his foster-mother and he always nursed his old 
grudge against Nubbins, and now that they 
drank daily of the same drink, he viewed Nub- 
bins as his rival and soon showed his feeling by 
a fresh attempt to master him. But Nubbins 
was better able to take care of himself now 
than ever. Krinklehorn got nothing but a few 
good prods for his pains, and their relative 
status was settled. 



Krag 21 

During the rest of the season they grew up 
side by side. Krinklehorn, thickset and sulky, 
with horns fast growing, but thick and crinkly. 
And Nubbins — well ! it is not fair to call him 
Nubbins any longer, as his horns were grow- 
ing fast and long, so that we may henceforth 
speak of him as Krag, a name that he got years 
afterward in the country around Gunder Peak, 
and the name by which he went down to his- 
tory. 

During the summer Krag and Krinklehorn 
grew in wit as well as in size. They learned 
all the ordinary rules of life among Bighorn. 
They knew how to give the warning ^^ ^;^/^'* 
when they saw something, and the danger 
** Snoo-qf when they were sure it was dan- 
gerous. They were acquainted with all the 
pathways and could have gone alone to any 
of the near salt-licks when they felt the need 
of it. 

They could do the zigzag bounding that 
baffles the rush of an enemy, as well as the stiff- 
legged jumping which carries them safely up 
glassy slippery slopes. Krag even excelled his 
mother in these accomplishments. They were 
well equipped to get their own living, they 
could eat grass, and so it was time they were 
weaned, for Spikerdoe had to lay on her fat to 



2 2 Krag 

keep warm in the coming winter. The young- 
sters themselves would have been in no hurry 
to give up their comforting breakfast, but the 
supply began to run short, and the growing 
horns of the Lambs began to interfere with the 
mother's comfort so much that she proceeded 
firmly and finally with their weaning, and long 
before the earliest snow flurry grizzled the up- 
land, she had them quite independent of her 
for their daily food. 

VII 

When the earliest snows of winter came, all 
the Lambs were weaned and doing for them- 
selves, and the Ewes were fat and flourish- 
ing, but, being free from domestic cares, had 
thoughts for other matters. 

With the early frosts and the bracing air 
came the mating season and, determined to find 
their mates, the Sheep travelled about the like- 
liest parts of the hills. 

Several times during the summer they had 
seen one or two great Rams in the distance, 
but an exchange of signals had made clear to 
each what the other was, and they had avoided 
each other's company. 

But now, when a pair of large Sheep were 
sighted, and the usual signals exchanged, there 



Krag 23 

seemed no sign of a wish to avoid each other. 
As the two tall strangers came on, their great 
size, majestic forms, and vast curling horns, 
left no doubt as to their sex, and, proud of their 
horns and powers, they pranced forward. But 
the forwardness of Spikerdoe and her band 
now gave place to a decided bashfulness. They 
turned, as though to avoid the new-comers. 
This led to pursuit and to much manoeuvring 
before the two Rams were permitted to join the 
herd. Then came the inevitable quarrel. The 
Rams had so far been good friends, were evi- 
dently chums, but chumship and love rivalry 
cannot dwell together. It w^as the old story — 
the jealous pang, the seeking for cause, the chal- 
lenge, and the duel. But these are not always 
duels to the death. The Rams charged at each 
other, their horns whacked together till the 
chips fiew from them, but after a few rounds 
one of them, the lighter, of course, was thrown 
backward, and, leaping up, he tried to escape. 
The other followed for a quarter of a mile, and, 
as he declined a further fight, the victor came 
proudly back, and claimed and was allowed 
the position and joys of Sultan of the band. 

Krag and Krinklehorn were ignored. They 
were in awe of the great Ram who now took 
charge, and they felt that their safest plan was 



24 ^^^S 

to keep as far as possible away from the present 
social activities of the flock, as they were not 
very sure of their own standing. 

During the first part of that winter they were 
under guidance of the Ram. He was a big, 
handsome fellow, not without a streak of mas- 
culine selfishness that made him take care to 
have the best of the food and to keep a sharp 
lookout for danger. Food was plentiful, for 
the Ram knew enough to lead them not into 
the sheltered ravines where the snow was deep, 
but up on the bleakest ridges of the upland, 
where the frigid wind lays bare the last year's 
grass and, furthermore, where no enemy can 
approach unseen ; so all went well. 

VIII 

The springtime came, with its thrilling 
sounds and feelings. Obedient to their an- 
cient law, the Ram and the band of Ewes had 
parted company in midwinter. The feeling 
had been growing for days. They were less 
disposed to follow him, and sometimes he lin- 
gered far away for hours. One day he did 
not rejoin them, and thenceforth to the end 
of the winter they followed the Spikerdoe as 
of old. 



Krag 25 

The little ones came about the first of June. 
Many of the mothers had two each, but Spik- 
erdoe, now the Wise One, had but one, as the 
year before, and this little one displaced Krag 
for good and engrossed all the mother's atten- 
tion. He even hindered her in her duties as a 
leader, and one day, as she was feeding him 
and watching the happy wagging of his tail, 
another Sheep gave an alarm. All froze ex- 
cept a certain nervous, fidgety, young Ewe, 
who never could keep still. She crossed be- 
fore the Wise One. There was a far-away 
** crack." Fidgets dropped dead, and the 
Spikerdoe fell with a stifled '' baah I " But she 
sprang to her feet, forgetting her own pain, 
and, looking wildly about her for her Lamb, 
she leaped on the ridge to follow the others. 
'' Bang ! " went the rifle again, and the old 
Sheep got a first glimpse of the enemy. It 
was the man who had once so nearly caught 
the Lambs. He w^as a long way off, but the 
ball whistled before the Sheep's nose. She 
sprang back and changed her course, thereby 
leaving the rest, then leaped over the ridge 
bleating to her little one to follow — bleating, 
too, from pain, for she was hard hit. But she 
leaped headlong down a rocky place, and the 
high ground came between. Down the gully 



26 Krag 

she bounded, and out along the further ridge, 
keeping out of sight so well that, though Scotty 
ran as fast as he could to the edge, he never 
saw her again. He chuckled as he noted the 
clots of blood, but these soon ceased, and after 
a long attempt to keep the trail, he gave it up, 
cursed his luck, and went back to the victim 
he had secured. 

Away went Spikerdoe and her Lamb, the 
mother guiding, but the little one ahead. Her 
instinct told her that upward was the way to 
safety. Up the Gunder Peak she must go, but 
keep from being seen. So she went on, in 
spite of a burning wound, always keeping a 
ridge between, till round the nearest rocks she 
paused to look. She saw no sign of either her 
friends or her foe. She felt she had a deadly 
wound. She must escape lest her strength 
give out. She set off again at a run, forging 
ahead, and the little one following or running 
ahead as he pleased. Up they went till the 
timber line was reached, and upward still, her 
instinct urged her on. 

Another lofty bench was scaled, and then she 
sighted a long white streak, a snow-drift lin- 
gering in a deep ravine. She eagerly made for 
that. There was a burning pain through her 
loins, and on each side was a dark stain on her 



coat. She craved a cooling touch, and on 
reaching the white patch sank on her side, her 
wound against the snow. 

There could be only one end to such a 
wound — two hours, three hours at farthest, and 
then — well, never mind. 

And the little one ? He stood dumbly gaz- 
ing at her. He did not understand. He only 
knew that he was cold and hungry now, and 
that his mother, to whom he had looked for 
everything, food, warmth, guidance, and sym- 
pathy, was so cold and still. 

He did not understand it. He did not know 
what next. But we do, and the Raven on the 
Rock knew. Better for him, far better, quicker 
and more merciful, had the rifle served him as 
it did his mother. 



IX 

Krag was a fine young Ram now, taller than 
any of the Ewes, and with long scimitars of 
horns. Krinklehorn also was well grown, as 
heavy as Krag, but not so tall, and with horns 
that looked diseased, they were so short, thick, 
and bumpy. 

The autumn came again, with the grand re- 
union of the families, the readvent of the Ram, 



28 Krag 

and also with a readjustment that Krag did not 
look for. He was just beginning to realize his 
importance in the flock, when the great Ram 
came, with his curling horns and thick bull 
neck, and the first thing he did was to bundle 
Krag out of the flock. Krag, Krinklehorn, and 
three or four more of their age, were packed 
off by themselves, for such is etiquette among 
Sheep. As soon as the young males reach 
or nearly reach maturity they must go off to 
study life for themselves, just as a boy leaves 
home for college. And during the four years 
that followed Krag led a roving bachelor life 
with a half dozen companions. He became the 
leader, for he inherited his mother's wit, and 
they travelled into far countries, learning new 
pastures, new ways, and new wisdom, and fitted 
themselves to become fathers of large and suc- 
cessful families, for such is the highest ambi- 
tion of every good Mountain Ram. 

It was not choice that left Krag unmated, 
but a combination of events against which he 
vainly chafed still left him with his bachelor 
crew. It was really better so. It seemed hard 
at the time, but it proved his making, for he 
was thus enabled to develop to the full his 
wonderful powers before being hampered and 
weakened by the responsibilities and mingled 



Krag 29 

joys of a family. Each year the bachelor 
Rams grew handsomer. Even sulky Krinkle- 
horn became a tall and strong, if not a fine 
looking, Ram. He had never gotten over his 
old dislike of Krag. Once or twice he put 
forth his strength to worst him, and even tried 
to put him over a cliff, but he got so severely 
punished for it that thenceforth he kept away 
from his foster-brother. But Krag was a joy 
to behold. As he bounded up the jagged cliffs, 
barely touching each successive point with his 
clawed and padded hoofs, floating up like a 
bird, deriding all foes that thought of follow- 
ing afoot, and the sunbeams changing and 
flashing from his back as the supple muscles 
working changed the surface form — he was 
more like a spirit thing that had no weight and 
knew no fear of falling than a great three-hun- 
dred-pound Ram with five year-rings on his 
horns. 

And such horns ! The bachelors that owned 
his guidance had various horns reflecting each 
the owner's life and gifts. Some rough half- 
moons, some thick, some thin, but Krag's 
curled in one great sweep, three-quarters of a 
circle, and the five-year marks told, first be- 
ginning at the point, of the year when he was 
a Lamb, and grew the straight long spikes that 



30 Krag 

had helped him so well in his early fight. Next 
year the growth was thicker and much longer. 
The next two years told of yet more robust 
growth with lesser length, but the last was rec- 
ord of a year of good food, of perfect health, 
and unexampled growth, for the span grown 
then was longer, wider, and cleaner horns than 
any of the others. 

Tucked away under the protecting shadow 
of each rugged base, like things too precious 
to expose, were his beautiful eyes. Dark 
brown when he was a lamb, yellowish brown 
when a yearling, they were now, in his early 
prime, great orbs of shining gold, or splendid 
amber jewels, with a long, dark, misty depth 
in each, through which the whole bright world 
was born and mirrored on his brain. 

There is no greater joy to the truly living 
thing than the joy of being alive, of feeling 
alive in every part and power. It was a joy 
to Krag now to stretch his perfect limbs in a 
shock of playful battle with his friends. It was 
a joy to press his toes on some thin ledge, then 
sail an impossible distance across some fearful 
chasm to another ledge, whose size and dis- 
tance he gauged with absolute precision. It 
was a joy to him to set the Mountain Lions at 
naught by a subtle ricochet from rock to rock. 



Krag 31 

or to turn and drive the bounding Blacktail 
band down pell-mell backward to their own, 
the lower, levels. There was a subtle pleasure 
in every move, and a glorying in his glorious 
strength, which, after all, is beauty. And when 
to such a being the early winter brought also 
the fire of love and set him all aglow, he was in- 
deed a noble thing to see. In very wanton- 
ness of strength and power he bounded, ball- 
like, up or down long rugged slopes, leaping 
six feet high where one would have fully an- 
swered every end, except the pleasure of do- 
ing it. But so he went. Seeking, searching — 
for what ? He could not have told. But he 
would know w^hen he found it. Away he went 
at the head of his band, careering till they 
crossed the trail of another band and, instinct 
guided, he followed after. In a mile or two 
the other band was sighted, a group of Ewes. 
They fled, of course, but being cornered on a 
rugged bench, they stood, and after due punc- 
tilio they allowed the Rams to approach. 

The Bighorn is no monogamist. The finest 
Ram claims all of the Ewes in the flock, and 
any question of his claims must be settled on 
the spot in mortal fight. Hitherto there had 
been a spirit of good fellowship among the 
Rams, but now that was changed, and when 



3 2 Krag 

great Krag bounded forward, snorting out a 
challenge to all the rest to disprove his right 
of might, there was none to face him ; and, 
strange to tell, with many claimants, there was 
no fight. There was nothing now for the rest 
to do but to wheel at his command and leave 
him to the devotion and admiration of his con- 
quest. 

If, as they say, beauty and prowess are win- 
ning cards in all walks of animal life, then Krag 
must have been the idol of his band. For 
matched wath Rams he had seemed a wonder, 
and among the Ewes his strength, his size, 
and the curling horns must have made of him a 
demi-god, and the winged heart and the brim- 
ming cup were his. 

But on the second day of joy two Rams ap- 
peared, and after manoeuvring came near. One 
was a fine big animal, as heavy in the body as 
Krag, but with smaller horns, and the other 
was — yes, it surely was — Krinklehorn. The 
new Ram snuffed a challenge as he came near, 
then struck the ground with his foot, meaning 
'' I am a better Ram than you and mean to 
oust you from your present happy position.'* 

Krag's eyes blazed. He curled his massive 
neck. He threw his chin up and down like 
a champing horse, shook his great horns as 



Krag 33. 

though they were twigs, laid back his ears and 
charged, and forward sprang the foe. '' Choch '* 
they came together, but the stranger had an 
advantage of ground, which left the first onset 
a draw. 

The Rams backed off, each measuring the 
other and the distance and seeking for firm 
footing, kept on the edge of the great bench, 
then with a '' whoof " they came on again. 
''Whack" — and the splinters flew, for they 
both were prime. But this time Krag clearly 
had the best of it. He followed up his advan- 
tage at once with a second " whack " at short 
range, and twisting around, his left horn hooked 
under the right of his foe, when to his utter 
dismay he received a terrific blow on his flank 
from an unknown enemy. He was whirled 
around and would have been dashed over the 
cliff, but that his horn was locked in that of 
his first foeman and so he was saved ; for no 
Ram has weight enough in his hind quarter 
to oppose the headlong charge of another. 
Krag scrambled to his feet again, just in time 
to see the new enemy irresistibly carried by the 
violence of his own charge over the ledge and 
down. 

- It was a long time before a far-away crash 
told to those on the ledge that Krinklehorn had 



34 Krag 

found the very end he plotted for his foster- 
brother. Ram fights are supposed to be fair 
duels. Krinklehorn, failing in fair fight, had 
tried foul, and had worked his own destruction ; 
for not even a Bighorn can drop two hundred 
feet on rock and live. 

Krag now turned on his other foe with double 
fury. One more shock and the stranger was 
thrown, defeated. He leaped to his feet and 
bounded off. For a time Krag urged him to 
further flight by the same means that Krinkle- 
horn once used to persecute him, then returned 
in triumph to live unmolested with his family. 



X 

Scotty had gone from his Tobacco Creek 
location in 1887. The game was pretty well 
hunted out. Sheep had become very scarce ; 
news of new gold strikes in Colorado had at- 
tracted him southward, and the old shanty was 
deserted. Five years went by with Krag as 
the leading Ram. It was five years under a 
good genius, with an evil genius removed. 
Five years of prosperity then, for the Big- 
horn. 

Krag carried farther the old ideas that were 
known to his mother. He taught his band to 



Krag 35 

abjure the lowlands entirely. The forest cov- 
erts were full of evil, and the only land of 
safety was the open wind-swept peaks where 
neither lions nor riflemen could approach un- 
seen. He found more than one upland salt-lick 
where their natural need could be supplied 
without the dangerous lowland journeys that 
they once had thought necessary. He taught 
his band never to walk along the top of a ridge, 
but always along one side so as to look down 
both ways without being conspicuous. And he 
added one famous invention of his own. This 
was the '' hide." If a hunter happens close 
to a band of Sheep before they see him, the old 
plan was to make a dash for safety. A good 
enough plan in the days of bows and arrows 
or even of muzzle-loading rifles, but the repeat- 
ing rifle is a different arm. Krag himself 
learned and then taught his tribe, to crouch and 
lie perfectly still when thus surprised. In nine 
cases out of ten this will baffle a human hunt- 
er, as Krag found times without number. 

It is always good for a race, when a great one 
arises in it. Krag marked a higher level for the 
Bighorns. His children multiplied on the Yak- 
i-ni-kak around the Gunder Peak, and eastward 
as far as Kintla Lake at least. The}^ were 
healthier and much wiser than had been the 



3 6 Krag 

Bighorn of other days, and being so their 
numbers steadily increased. 

Five years had made some changes in Krag*s 
appearance, but his body was square and round 
and muscular as ever ; his perfect legs seemed 
unchanged in form or in force ; his head was as 
before, with the heart-shaped white patch on 
his nose ; and his jewel eyes blazed as of old ; 
but his horns, how they had changed ! Before 
they were uncommon ; now they were unique. 
The massive sweeps — the graven records of his 
life — were now a circle and a quarter, and they 
told of years of joy and years of strife, and one 
year, tallied in a narrow band of dark and 
wrinkled horn, told of the year when all the 
mountains were scourged by the epidemic of 
grip ; when many Lambs and their mothers 
died ; when many strong Rams succumbed ; 
when Krag himself had been smitten but re- 
covered, thanks to his stalwart growth and 
native force, and after a time of misery had 
shown no traces of those wretched months, ex- 
cept in the yearly growth of horn. For that 
year, 1889, it was barely an inch in width, plain 
for those who read su#h things — a record of a 
time of want. 



Kra^ 37 

XI 

At length old Scotty came back. Like all 
mountaineers he was a wanderer, and he once 
more returned alone to his shanty on Tobacco 
Creek. The sod roof had fallen in, and he hesi- 
tated to repair it. Anyhow he would prospect 
awhile first. He took his rifle, and sought the 
familiar upland. Before he returned, he had 
sighted two large bands of Mountain Sheep. 
That decided him. He spent a couple of days 
repairing the shanty, and the curse of the Yak- 
i-ni-kak returned. 

Scotty was now a middle-aged man. His 
hand was strong and steady, but his eyes had 
lost some of their power. As a youth he 
scorned all aids to sight. But now he carried 
a field-glass. In the wrecks that followed he 
scanned a thousand benches through the glass, 
and many a time his eye rested on the form of 
the Gunder Ram. The first time he saw him, 
he exclaimed, '' Heavens, what horns ! '* Then 
added, prophetically, '' Them's mine !" and he 
set out to make them his. But the Bighorn of 
his early days were fools to these, and month 
after month passed without his ever getting a 
nearer view of the great Ram. The Ram had 
more than once seen him at short range, but 
Scotty never knew it. 



38 Krag 

Several times through the glass he marked 
old Krag from afar on a bench. Then after a 
labor of hours stalked round to the place only 
to find him gone. Sometimes he really was 
gone, but on more than one occasion, the Ram 
was close at hand and hidden, watching his 
foe. 

Then came a visitor to Scotty's shanty, a 
cattle man named Lee, a sportsman by instinct 
and a lover of dogs and horses. His horses 
were of little use in mountain hunting, but his 
wolf-hounds — three beautiful Russian Barzois 
— were his constant companions, and he sug- 
gested to Scotty that it would be a good plan 
to try the dogs on the Bighorn. 

Scotty grinned, '' Guess you're from the 
plains, pard. Wait till you see the kind of place 
whar ole Krag hangs around." 



XII 

Where the Yak-i-ni-kak River leaves its par- 
ent mountains, south of Gunder Peak, it comes 
from a tremendous gorge called Skinkler's 
Gulch. This is a mere crack in the vast granite 
hill, but is at least 500 feet in depth. South- 
ward from the back of Gunder Peak is a broken 
upland that runs to a point at this canon, and 



Krag 39 

ends in a long promontory over the raging 
walled-in stream. 

This upland is good Sheep range and by a 
strange chance Scotty, coming up there with 
Lee and the three wolf-hounds, got a glimpse 
of the Gunder Ram. The men kept out of 
sight and hurried along by the hollows toward 
the spot. But it was the old story. No sign 
of their quarry. They found his great hoof- 
mark just where they had seen him, so it was 
no illusion, but the hard rocks about refused 
further information, and no doubt Scotty would 
have had another mysterious disappearance to 
add to his list, but that the dogs, nosing about 
in all of the near hollows and thickets of dwarf 
birch, broke out suddenly into a loud clamor, 
and as they did so, up jumped a huge, gray, 
white-sterned animal — the Ram, the wonderful 
Gunder Ram. Over the low bushes, over the 
broken rocks — bounding, soaring, floating ; 
supple, certain, splendid — he bore the great 
curling wonders on his head as lightly as a lady 
might her ear-rings, and then, from various 
other coverts, sprang up his band and joined 
him. Up flew the rifles, but in a moment the 
three great dogs closing in, gave unwitting 
screen to the one victim on which every thought 
was fixed, and not a shot was heard. Away 



40 Krag 

they went, the Ram forging quickly to the lead 
and the others stringing along after. Over the 
upland, flying, sailing, leaping, and swerving 
they went. Over the level plains the dogs 
would soon have caught the hindmost, or per- 
haps their noblest prey, but on the rugged 
rocks, it was clear that the Sheep were gaining. 
The men ran, one to the right, the other to the 
left, the better to keep sight, and Krag, cut off 
from the peak, dashed southward, over the 
benchland. Now it was a straight race. On it 
went — on, southward. The dogs gained and 
were near catching the hindmost Sheep — then 
it seemed that the Ram dropped back and now 
ran the rearmost. A rugged stretch was 
reached and there the Sheep gained steadily, 
though little. One, two, three miles and the 
chase was sweeping along the rocky ridge that 
ends in the sudden gash of Skinkler's Gulch. 
A minute more and the crowd of Sheep were 
rounded up and cornered on the final rock. 
They huddled together in terror, 500 feet of 
dizzy canon all round, three fierce dogs, and 
two fiercer men behind. Then, a few seconds 
later, old Krag dashed up. Cornered at last, 
he wheeled to fight, for the wild thing never 
yields. 

He was now so far from the bounding dogs, 



Krag 41 

that two rifle balls whistled near. Of the dogs 
he had no fears ; them he could fight, but the 
rifles were sure death. There was one chance 
left. The granite walls of the Yak-i-ni-kak 
could prove no harder than the human foe, the 
dogs were within forty yards, now, fine coura- 
geous animals, keen for fight, fearless of death, 
and behind, the hunters, remorseless and al- 
ready triumphant. Sure death from them or 
doubtful life in the gulch. There was no time 
to hesitate, he, the leader, must act. He 
wheeled to the edge and — leaped down — down, 
not to the bottom, not blindly — thirty feet 
downward, across the dizzy chasm, was a little 
jut of rock, no bigger than his nose. The only 
one in sight, all the rest smooth, sheer or over- 
hanging. But Krag landed fairly, poised just 
a heart-beat, in a flash his blazing eyes took in 
another point, his only hope, on the other side, 
hidden under the overhanging rocks he had 
leaped from. His supple loins and corded 
limbs, bent, pulsed, and floated him across, 
there got fresh guidance to his flight, then back 
and sometimes to a mere roughness of the rock 
on which his hoofs of horn and rubber built 
gripped for an instant, took fresh ricochet to 
another point. Then, sidewise fifteen feet and 
down, down with modulated impact from point 



42 Krag 

to point, till, with a final drop of twenty feet, he 
reached a ledge of safety far below. 

And the others inspired by his example fol- 
lowed fast, a long cascade of Sheep. Had he 
failed at one point all must have failed. But 
now they came down headlong. It was splen- 
did, it was inspiring, hop, skip, down they came, 
one after the other, now ten, now twenty feet, 
first to last, leaping, sailing, bounding from 
point to ledge, from ledge to point, with mas- 
terly command of thew and hoof, with marvel- 
lous poise and absolute success. 

But just as the last had reached the second 
slender specklike foothold for its life — three 
white and yellow creatures whirled past her in 
the air with gurgled gasps of horror, to perish 
far below. The hounds, impetuous and brave, 
never hesitated to follow a foe and never knew 
how far more gifted was that foe than them- 
selves, until it was too late. Down below al- 
most at the water's edge Krag paused at length. 
Far above he heard the yells and whistles of 
the hunters; below in the boiling Yak-i-ni-kak 
he saw a battered w^hite and yellow form being 
hurried to the sea. 

Lee and Scotty stood blankly at the edge. 
Sheep and dogs had vanished: no possibility of 



Krag 43 

escape for any. Scotty uttered words that had 
no bearing on the case, only they were harsh 
blasphemous words and seemed to be neces- 
sary. Lee had a choking feeling in his throat, 
and he felt as no man can comprehend who has 
not lost a noble dog by a sudden, tragic, and 
untimely end. 

''Bran! RoUo! Ida!" he called in lingering 
hope, but the only response was from the 
Western Wind that '' snoofed " and whistled as 
it swept down Skinkler's Gulch. 



44 K^^g 



Part II 

LEE was a young, warm-hearted, impulsive 
cattle-man. For a day or two he hung 
about the shanty. The loss of his three 
friends was a sad blow: he had no heart for 
more mountaineering. But a few days later, 
a spell of bracing weather helped his spirits, 
and he agreed, when Scotty suggested a hunt. 
They reached the upper level when Scotty, 
who had from time to time been scanning the 
hills with his glass, suddenly exclaimed : 

'' Hell ! If thar ain't the old Gunder Ram ; 
thought he was smashed in Skinkler's Gulch," 
and he sat down in amazement. Lee took the 
glass and he recognized the wonderful Ram 
by his superb horns ; the color rushed to the 
young man's face. Now was his chance for 
glory and revenge at once ! ^* Poor old Bran, 
good RoUo, and Ida ! " 

But few animals have cunning enough to 
meet the combined drive and ambush. Scotty 
knew the lay of the land as well as the habits 
of the Ram. 

'' He ain't agoin' to run down the wind and 
he ain't agoin' to quit the rocks. That means 
he'll pass up by the Gunder Peak, if he moves at 



Krag 45 

all, an' he must take one side or the other. He 
won't go the west side if I show meself once 
that ar way. So you take the east, Til give 
you two hours to get placed. I've a notion 
he'll cross that spur by that ledge." 

Lee set out for his post, Scotty waited two 
hours, then moved on to a high ridge and clear 
against the sky he waved his arms and walked 
up and down a few times. The Ram was not 
in sight, but Scotty knew he would see. 

Then the old mountaineer circled back by 
hidden ways to the south and began to walk 
and cut over the ridges toward the place where 
the Ram had been. He did not expect to see 
old Krag, but he did expect the Ram to see 
him. Lee was at his post and, after a brief 
spell, he sighted the great Ram himself bound- 
ing lightly down a ridge a mile away, and close 
behind him were three Ewes. They disap- 
peared down a pine-clad hollow, and when 
they reappeared on the next ridge they were 
running as though in great alarm, their ears 
laid back and from the hollow behind came, 
not as Lee expected, the "crack" of Scotty's 
rifle, or the sound of his yell, but the hunting 
chorus of Timber Wolves. Among the rocks 
the Sheep could easily escape, but among the 
timber or on the level such as now lay ahead. 



46 Krag 

the advantage was with the Wolves and a min- 
ute later these swept up in sight, five shaggy 
furry monsters. The level open was crossed 
at whirling speed. The Sheep, racing for their 
lives, soon lengthened out into a procession in 
order of speed. Far ahead the great Ram, 
behind him, with ten-yard gaps between each, 
the three Ewes, and forty yards behind the last 
the five grim Wolves — closing, gaining at every 
leap. The benchland narrowed eastward to 
pass a rocky shoulder. Long years and count- 
less perils had taught the Sheep that in the 
rocks was safety, and that way led the Ram. 
But in the tangled upland birch the last of the 
Ewes was losing ground, she gasped a short 
** baah'' as thrown by a curling root she lost a 
few more precious yards. The Wolves were 
almost within leaping distance when Krag 
reached the shoulder ledge. But a shoulder 
above means a ravine below. In a moment, at 
that call of distress, Krag wheeled on the nar- 
row ledge and faced the foe. He stood to one 
side and the three Ewes leapt past him and on 
to safety. Then on came the Wolves with a 
howl of triumph. Many a Sheep had they 
pulled down and now they knew they soon 
would feast. Without a pause they closed, but 
in such a narrow pass it was one at a time. 



Krag 47 

The leader sprang, but those death-dealing 
fangs closed only on a solid mass of horn and 
back of that was a force that crushed his head 
against himself and dashed him at his friend 
behind with such a fearful vim that both were 
hurled over the cliff to perish on the rocks. 
On came the rest, the Ram had no time to 
back up for a charge, but a sweep of that great 
head was enough, the points, forefronting now, 
as they did when he was a Lamb, speared and 
hurled the next Wolf and the next, and then 
Krag found a chance to back up and gather 
his force. None but a mad Wolf could have 
failed to take warning, but on he came and 
Krag, in savage glory of the fight, let loose 
that living thunderbolt — himself — and met the 
last of the furry monsters with a shock that 
crushed him flat against the rock, then picked 
him up on his horns as he might a rag and 
hurled him farthest yet, and standing on the 
edge he watched him whirl and gasp till swal- 
lowed in the chasm. 

The great Ram raised his splendid head, 
blew a long blast from his nostrils like a war- 
horse and gazed a moment to see if more were 
coming, then turned and lightly bounded after 
the Ewes he had so ably guarded. 

From his hiding-place young Lee took in the 



48 Krag 

whole scene with eager, blazing eyes. Only 
fifty yards away from him it had passed. 

He was an easy mark, fifty yards standing — 
he was a splendid mark, all far beyond old 
Scotty's wildest talk ; but Lee had seen a deed 
that day that stirred his blood. He felt no 
wish to end that life, but sat with brightened 
eyes and said, with fervor: *' You grand old 
warrior ! I do not care if you did kill my dogs. 
You did it fair. I'll never harm you. For me 
you may go in safety." 

But the Ram never knew ; and Scotty never 
understood. 

II 

There was once a wretch who, despairing of 
other claims to notice, thought to achieve a 
name by destroying the most beautiful building 
on earth. This is the mind of the head-hunting 
sportsman. The nobler the thing that he de- 
stroys, the greater the deed, the greater his 
pleasure, and the greater he considers his claim 
to fame. 

During the years that followed more than 
one hunter saw the great Ram, and feasted his 
covetous eyes on his unparalleled horns. His 
fame even reached the cities. Dealers in the 
wonderful offered fabulous prices for the head 



Krag 49 

that bore them — set blood money on the life 
that grew them, and many came to try their 
luck, and failed. Then Scotty, always needy, 
was fired by a yet larger money offer, and set- 
ting out with his partner they found the Ram, 
with his harem about him. But in three days 
of hard following they never got a second 
glimpse, and the partner '' reckoned thar was 
easier money to git " and returned home. 

But back of Scotty's sinister gray eyes was 
the fibre of dogged persistency that has made 
his race the masters of the world. He returned 
with Mitchell to the shanty, but only to pre- 
pare for a long and obstinate hunt. His rifle, 
his blanket, his pipe, with matches, tobacco, a 
pot, a bundle of jerked venison and three or four 
pounds of chocolate, were all he carried. He 
returned alone next day to the place where he 
had left the track of the Ram and followed it 
fast in the snow ; winding about in and out and 
obscured by those of his band, but always dis- 
tinguishable by its size. Once or twice Scotty 
came on the spots where the band had been 
lying down and from time to time he scanned 
the distance with his glass. But he saw noth- 
ing of them. At night he camped on their trail, 
next day he took it up again ; after following 
for hours, he came on the place where evidently 



50 Krag 

the Ram had stopped to watch him afar, and so 
knew of his pursuer. Thenceforth the trail of 
the band for a long time was a single line as 
they headed for distant pastures. 

Scotty followed doggedly behind, all day 
he followed, and at night, in a little hollow, 
crouched like a wild beast in his lair, with this 
difference only, he had a fire and he smoked a 
pipe in very human fashion. In the morning 
he went on as before — once or twice in the far 
distance he saw the band of sheep travelling 
steadily southward. Next day passed and the 
Sheep were driven to the south end of the Yak- 
i-ni-kak range, just north of Whitefish Lake. 

South of this was the Half-moon Prairie, east 
the broken land that stretched toward the north 
fork of the Flathead, and north of them their 
pertinacious and deadly foe. The Sheep were 
in doubt now, and as old Krag sought to sneak 
back by the lower benches of the east slope, he 
heard a '' crack " and a stinging something 
touched one horn and tore the hair from his 
shoulder. 

The touch of a rifle-ball on the horn of a Ram 
has a more or less stunning effect, and Krag, 
dazed for a moment, gave the signal which in 
our speech is '' Everyone for himself now,** and 
so the band was scattered. 



Krag 51 

Some went this way and some that, running 
more or less openly. But Scotty's one thought 
was old Krag. He heeded no other, and when 
the Ram made straight away eastward down 
the hill, Scotty again took up his trail and 
cursed and gasped as he followed. 

The Flathead River was only a few miles 
away. The Ram crossed on the ice and keep- 
ing the roughest ground, turning when the 
wind turned, he travelled all day northeastward, 
with Scotty steadily behind. On the fifth day 
they passed near Terry's Lake. Scotty knew 
the ground. The Ram was going east and 
would soon run into a lot of lumber camps ; 
then turn he must, for the region was a box- 
canon ; there was only one way out. Scotty 
quit the trail and crossing northward to this 
one defile, down w^hich the Ram must go, he 
waited. The West, the Chinook wind had been 
rising for an hour or more, the one damp wind 
of the Rockies, the Snow Wind of the Hills, 
and as it rose the flakes began to fly. In half 
an hour more it was a blinding snowstorm. 
Things twenty yards away were lost to view. 
But it did not last, the heaviest of it was over 
in a few minutes, and in two hours the skies 
were clear again. Scotty waited another hour, 
but seeing nothing he left his post and searched 



52 Krag 

about for sign ; and found it, too, a dimpling 
row of tracks much hidden by the recent snow, 
but clear in one place under a ledge. The Ram 
had passed unseen, had given him the slip, 
saved by the storm wind and the snow. 

Oh, Chinook! Mother West-wind! that brings 
the showers of spring and the snows of winter ; 
that makes the grass grow on these great roll- 
ing uplands ; that sustains the grass and all 
flesh that the grass sustains; that carved these 
uplands themselves, as well as made all things 
that live upon them, are you only a puff of air, 
or are you, as Greek and Indian both alike have 
taught, a something better, a living, thinking 
thing, that first creates then loves and guards 
its own ? Why did you come that day and hold 
your muffler about the eyes of the wolfish 
human brute, if it were not that you meant he 
should not see or harm your splendid dear one 
as he passed. 

And was there not purpose in the meeting of 
these very two, that you brought about long 
years ago, the day the Ram was born ? 



Krag 53 

III 

Now, Scotty thought there must be an object 
in the Ram's bold dash for the east side of the 
Flathead, and that object must be to reach the 
hills around Kintla Lake, on which he was well 
known and had many times been seen. He 
might keep west all day to-day, while the Chi- 
nook blew, but if the wind changed in the night 
he would surely turn eastward. So Scotty 
made no further attempt to keep the trail, or to 
make the west point of the Kintla Range, but 
cut straight northward over the divide toward 
the lake. The wind did change in the night. 
And next day, as Scotty scanned the vast ex- 
panse between him and the lake, he saw a mov- 
ing speck below. He quickly got out of sight, 
then ran to intercept the traveller. But when 
he got to the spot he aimed at, and cautiously 
peered, there, 500 yards away, on the next 
ridge, he stood — the famous Ram. Each in 
plain view of the other. 

Scotty stood for a minute and gazed in si- 
lence. Then, '' Wal, old Krag, ye kin see the 
skull and cross-bones on my gun ; I'm Death on 
yer traclc ; ye can't shake me off ; at any price, 
I mean to have them horns. And here's for 
luck." Then he raised the rifle and fired, but 



54 Krag 

the distance was great. The Ram stood till he 
saw the puff of smoke, then moved quickly to 
one side, and the snow was tossed by the ball 
not far from his former stand. 

The Ram turned and made eastward, skirt- 
ing the rugged southern shore of the lake, mak- 
ing for the main divide, and Scotty, left far be- 
hind for a time, trudged steadily, surely, behind 
him. For, added to his tireless strength, was 
the Saxon understreak of brutish grit, of sense- 
less, pig-dogged pertinacity. The inflexible de- 
termination that still sticks to its purpose long 
after sense, reason, and honor have abandoned 
the attempt ; that blinds its owner to his ow^n 
defeat and makes him, even when he is downed, 
still feebly strike — yes ! spend his final mite of 
strength in madly girding at his conqueror, 
whose quick response he knows will be to 
wipe him out. 

It was on, on, all day. Then camp for the 
night and up again in the morning. Some- 
times the trail w^as easy to follow, sometimes 
blotted out by new-fallen snow. But day after 
day they went ; sometimes Scotty was in sight 
of the prize that he pertinaciously was hunt- 
ing, but never very near. The Ram seemed to 
have learned that 500 yards was the farthest 
range of the rifle, and allowed the man to come 



Krag 55 

up to that, the safety limit. After a time it 
seemed as though he much preferred to have 
him there, for then he knew where he was. 
One time Scotty stole a march, and would 
have had a close shot had not the fateful West 
Wind borne the taint, and Krag was warned in 
time, but this was in the first month of that 
dogged, fearful following. After awhile the 
Ram was never out of sight. 

Why did he not fly far away and baffle the 
hunter by his speed ? Because he must feed. 
The man had his dried venison and chocolate, 
enough for many days, and when they were 
gone he could shoot a hare or a grouse, hastily 
cook it and travel all day on that, but the Ram 
required hours to seek the scanty grass under 
the snow. The long pursuit was telling on him. 
His eye was blazing bright as ever, his shapely 
corded limbs as certain in their stride, but his 
belly was pinching up, and hunger — weakening 
hunger — was joining with his other foe. 

For five long weeks the chase went on, and 
the only respite to the Gunder Ram was when 
some snow-storm from the west would inter- 
pose its veil. 

Then came two weeks when they were daily 
in sight of each other. In the morning Scotty, 
rising wolf-like from his frosty lair, would call 



56 Krag 

out, '' Come, Krag, time we wuz a-movinV' and 
the Ram on the distant ridge would stamp de- 
fiantly, then setting his nose to the wind move 
on, now fast, now slow, but keeping ever the 
safe 500 yards or more ahead. When Scotty 
sat down to rest the Ram would graze. If 
Scotty hid the Ram would run in alarm to 
some place where near approach unseen would 
be impossible. If Scotty remained still for 
some time the Ram would watch him intently 
and as still as himself. Thus they went on, 
day after day, till ten eventless weeks dragged 
slowly by. A singular feeling had grown up 
between the two. The Ram became so used 
to the sleuthhound on his track that he ac- 
cepted him as an inevitable, almost a neces- 
sary evil, and one day, when Scotty rose and 
scanned the northern distance for the Ram, he 
heard the long snort far behind, and turning, he 
saw old Krag impatiently waiting. The wind 
had changed and Krag had changed his route 
to suit. One day after their morning's start 
Scotty had a difficult two hours in crossing 
a stream over which old Krag had leaped. 
When he did reach the other side he heard a 
snort, and looked around to find that the Ram 
had come back to see what was keeping 
him. 



Krag 57 

Oh, Krag! Oh, Gunder Ram! Why do 
you make terms with such a foe implacable ? 
Why play with Death? Have all the hundred 
warnings of the Mother Wind been sent in 
vain? Keep on, keep on; do your best that 
she may save you 3^et, but make no terms. 
Remember that the snow, which ought to save, 
may 3^et betray. 

IV 

Thus in the winter all the Chief Mountain 
was traversed. The Kootenay Rockies, spur 
by spur, right up to the Crow's Nest Pass, 
then westward in the face of the White Wind, 
the indomitable pair turned their steps, west 
and south, to the MacDonald Range. And 
onward still, till the Galtom Range w^as 
reached. Day by day the same old mechanical 
following, tw^o dark moving specks on the 
great expanse of snow. Many a time their 
trail was crossed by that of other Sheep and 
other game. Once they met a party of miners 
who knew of Scotty and his hunt, and chaffed 
him now, but he stared blankly, heeded them 
not and w^ent on. Many a time the Ram 
sought to hide his fateful footprints in the 
wake of some passing herd. But Scotty was 
not to be balked, his purpose had become his 



58 Krag 

nature ; all puzzles he worked out, and now 
there were fewer interruptions of the chase, 
for the snow-storms seemed to cease, the 
White Wind held aloof, and Nature offered 
no rebuke. 

On and on, still the same scant half-mile 
apart and on them both the hands of Time and 
Death seemed laid. Both were growing hol- 
low-eyed and were gaunter every day. The 
man's hair had bleached since he set out on 
this insane pursuit, and the head and shoulders 
of the Ram were grizzling ; only his jewel 
eyes and his splendid sweeping horns were 
the same, and borne as proudly as when first 
the chase began. 

Each morning the man would rise stiff, half- 
frozen, and gaunt, but dogged as a very hound 
infernal, and shout across and Krag would re- 
spond, and springing into view from his own 
couch, the chase went on. Till in the third 
month, they crossed again from Galtom to 
Tobacco Range, then eastward back to Gun- 
der Peak — the Ram and the sleuth inexorable, 
upon his trail behind him. Here, on the birth- 
place of the Ram, they sat one morning, at 
rest. The Ram on one ridge ; Scotty 600 
yards away on the next. For twelve long 
weeks the Ram had led him through the snow, 



Krag 59 

through ten long mountain-ranges — five hun- 
dred rugged miles. 

And now they were back to their starting- 
point. Each with his lifetime wasted by one- 
half in that brief span. Scotty sat down and 
lit his pipe. The Ram made haste to graze. 
As long as the man stayed there in view the 
Ram would keep that ridge. Scotty knew this 
well ; a hundred times he had proved it. Then 
as he sat and smoked, some evil spirit entered 
in and sketched a cunning plot. He emptied 
his pipe deliberately, put it away, then cut 
some rods of the low creeping birch behind 
him ; he gathered some stones, and the great 
Ram watched afar. The man moved to the 
edge of the ridge and with sticks, some stones, 
and what clothing he could spare, he made a 
dummy of himself. Then keeping exactly be- 
hind it, he crawled backward over the ledge 
and disappeared. After an hour of crawling and 
stalking he came up on a ridge behind the Ram. 

There he stood, majestic as a bull, graceful 
as a deer, with horns that rolled around his 
brow like thunder-clouds about a peak. He 
was gazing intently on the dummy, wondering 
why his follower was so long still. Scotty was 
nearly 300 yards away. Behind the Ram were 
some low rocks, but between was open snow. 



6o Krag 

Scotty lay down and threw snow on his own 
back till he was all whitened, then set out to 
crawl 200 yards, watching the great Ram's 
head and coming on as fast as he dared. Still 
old Krag stared at the dummy; sometimes 
impatiently stamping. Once he looked about 
sharply, and once he would have seen that 
deadly crawder in the snow, but that his horn 
itself, his great right horn, must interpose its 
breadth between his eye and his foe, and so his 
last small chance of escape was gone. Nearer, 
nearer to the sheltering rocks there crawled 
the Evil One. Then, safely reaching them at 
last, he rested, a scant half-hundred yards away- 
For the first time in his life he saw the famous 
horns quite close. He saw the great, broad 
shoulders, the curving neck, still massive, 
though the mark of famine was on all. He 
saw this splendid fellow-creature blow the hot 
breath of life from his nostrils, vibrant in the 
sun ; and he even got a glimpse of the life-light 
in those glowing amber e3^es, but he slowly 
raised the gun. 

Oh, Mother White Wind, only blow! Let 
not this be. Is all 3^our power offset? Are 
not a million idle tons of snow on ever}- peak 
awaiting ? And one, just one, will do ; a single 
flying wreath of snow will save him yet. The 



Kra£ 6 1 



'<b 



noblest living thing on all these hills, must he be 
stricken down to glut the basest lust of man ? 

But never day was calmer. Sometimes the 
mountain Magpies warn their friends ; but not 
a bird was anywhere in view and still the 
Gunder Ram w^as spellbound watching that 
enemy, immovable across the dip. 

Up went the gun that never failed — directed 
by the eye that never erred. But the hand 
that had never trembled taking twenty human 
lives, now shook as though in fear. 

Two natures? Yes. 

But the hand grew steady. The hunter's face 
w^as calm and hard. The rifle rang, and Scotty 
— hid his head. For the familiar '' crack ! " had 
sounded as it never did before. He heard a 
rattling on the distant stones, then a long-drawn 
*' snoof ! " But he neither looked nor moved. 
Two minutes later all was still, and he timidly 
raised his head. Was he gone? or what? 

There on the snow lay a great gray-brown 
form, and at one end, like a twin-necked hydra 
coiling, were the horns, the wonderful horns, 
the sculptured record of the splendid life of a 
splendid creature, his fifteen 3'ears of life made 
visible at once. There were the points, much 
worn now% that once had won his Lamb-days' 
fight. There were the years of robust growth, 



62 Krag 

each long in measure of that growth ; here was 
that year of sickness ; there the splinter on the 
fifth year's ring, which notched his first love- 
fight. The points had now come round, and on 
them, could we but have seen, were the lives of 
many Gray Wolves that had sought his life. 
And so the rings read on, the living record of 
a life whose very preciousness had brought it 
to a sudden end. 

The golden chain across the web of white 
was broken for its gold. 

Scotty walked slowly over, and gazed in 
sullen silence, not at the dear-bought horns, but 
at the calm yellow eyes, unclosed and yet un- 
dimmed by death. Stone cold was he. He 
did not understand himself. He did not know 
that this was the sudden drop after the long, 
long slope up which he had been forcing him- 
self for months. He sat down twenty yards 
away, with his back to the horns. He put a 
quid of tobacco in his mouth. But his mouth 
was dry. He spat it out again. He did not 
know what he himself felt. Words played but 
little part in his life, and his lips uttered only 
a torrent of horrid blasphemies, his only emo- 
tional outburst. 

A long silence, then, '' I'd give it back to him 
if I could." 



Krag 63 

He stared at the distance. His eyes fell on 
the coat he had left, and, realizing that he was 
cold, he walked across and gathered up his 
things. Then he returned to the horns, and 
over him came the wild, inhuman lusting for his 
victim's body, that he had heard his comrades 
speak of, but had never before understood. 
The reactionary lust that makes the panther 
fondle and caress the deer he has stricken down. 
He made a fire. Then feeling more like him- 
self, he skinned the Ram's neck and cut off the 
head. This w^as familiar work and he followed 
it up mechanically, cutting meat enough to 
satisfy his hunger. Then bowing his shoulders 
beneath the weight of his massive trophy — a 
weight he could scarcely have noticed three 
months ago, he turned from the chase — old, 
emaciated, grizzled, and haggard — and toiled 
slowly down to the shanty he had left twelve 
weeks before. 

V 

''No! money couldn't buy it," and Scotty 
turned sullenly away to end discussion. He 
waited a week till the taxidermist had done his 
best, then he retraversed 300 miles of mountain 
to his lonely home. He removed the cover, 
and hung the head where it got the best light. 



64 Krag 

The work was well done, the horns were un- 
changed, the wonderful golden eyes were there, 
and when a glint of light gave to them a sem- 
blance of regard, the mountaineer felt once 
more some of the feelings of that day on the 
ridge. He covered up the head again. 

Those who knew him best say he kept it cov- 
ered and never spoke about it. But one man 
said, *' Yes, I saw him uncover it once and look 
kind o' queer." The onl}^ remark he ever made 
about it was, '' Them's my horns, but he'll get 
even with me yet." 

Four years went by. Scotty, now known as 
old man Scotty, had never hunted since. He 
had broken himself down in that long madness. 
He lived now entirely by his gold pan, was 
quite alone and was believed to have something 
on his mind. One day late in the winter an old 
partner stopped at his shanty. Their hours of 
conversation did not amount to as many para- 
graphs. 

'' I heerd about ye killin' the Gunder Ram." 

Scotty nodded. 

*' Let's see him, Scotty." 

'' Suit yourself," and the old man jerked his 
head toward the draped thing on the wall. The 
stranger pulled off the cloth and then followed 
the usual commonplace exclamations. Scotty 



Krao^ 65 

received them in silence. But he turned to 
look. The firelight reflected in the glassy e3^es 
lent a red and angry glare. 

'' Kiver him up when you're through," said 
Scotty, and turned to his smoking, 

*' Say, Scotty, why don't ye sell him if he 
bothers ye that a way ? That there New 
Yorker told me to tell ye that he'd give " 

*' To hell with yer New Yorker. I'll niver 
sell him, I'll niver part with him. I stayed by 
him till I done him up, and he'll stay by me till 
he gets even. He's been a-gittin' back at me 
these four years. He broke me down on that 
trip. He's made an old man o' me. He's left 
me half luny. He's sucking my life out now, 
but he ain't through with me yet. There's 
more o' him round than that head. I tell ye 
when that old Chinook comes a-blowing up the 
Tobacco Creek, I've heerd noises that the wind 
don't make. I've heerd him just the same as 
I done that day when he blowed his life out 
through his nose, and me a-lyin' on my face 
afore him. I'm up ag'in' it, and I'm a-goin' to 
face it out — right — here — on — Tobacco Creek." 

The White Wind rose high that night, and 
hissed and wailed about Scotty's shanty. Or- 
dinarily, the stranger might not have noticed 
it. But once or twice there came in over the 



66 Krag 

door a long *' Snoof that jarred the latch and 
rustled violently the drapery of the head. 
Scotty glanced at his friend with a wild, scared 
look. No need for a word, the stranger^s face 
was white. 

In the morning it was snowing, but the 
stranger went his way. All that day the White 
Wind blew, and the snow came down harder 
and harder. Deeper and deeper it piled on 
everything. All the smaller peaks were 
rounded off with snow, and all the hollows of 
the higher ridges levelled. Still it came down, 
not drifting but piling up, heavy, soft, adhesive. 
All day long, deeper, heavier, rounder. As 
night came on, the Chinook blew yet harder. It 
skipped from peak to peak like a living thing, 
no puff of air, but a living thing as Greek and 
Indian both alike have taught, a being who 
creates, then loves and guards its own. It 
came like a mighty goddess, like an angry angel 
with a bugle horn, with a dreadful message 
from the far-off western sea. A message of 
war, for it sang a wild, triumphant battle-song, 
and the strain of the song was : 

I am the mothering White Wind, 

This is my hour of might ; 
The hills and the snow are my children, 

My service they do to-night. 



Krag 67 

And here and there at the word received, 
there were mighty doings among the peaks. 
Here new effects were carven with a stroke. 
Here lakes were made or unmade ; here mes- 
sengers of life and death dispatched. An ava- 
lanche from PurcelFs Peak went down to gash 
the sides, and show long veins of gold; another 
hurried, by the White Wind sent, to black a 
stream and turn its wasted waters to a thirsty 
land — a messenger of mercy. But down the 
Gunder Peak there w^hirled a monstrous mass, 
charged with a mission of revenge. Down, 
down, down, loud ^' snoofing " as it went, slid- 
ing from shoulder, ledge, and long incline, now 
wiping out a forest that would bar its path, then 
crashing, leaping, rolling, smashing over cliff 
and steep descent, still gaining as it sped. Down, 
down faster, fiercer in one fell and fearful rush, 
and Scotty's shanty, in its track, with all that it 
contained, was crushed and swiftly blotted out. 
The hunter had forefelt his doom. The Ram's 
own Mother, White Wind, from the western sea 
had come — had long delayed, but still had come 
at last. 

Over the rocky upland came the spring, over 
the level plain of Tobacco Creek. Gently the 
rains from the westward washed the great white 



68 Krag 

pile of the snowslide. Slowly the broken 
shanty came to light, and there in the middle, 
quite unharmed, was the head of the Gunder 
Ram. His amber eyes were gleaming bright 
as of old, under cover of those wonderful horns ; 
and below him were some broken bones, with 
rags and grizzled human hair. 

Old Scotty is forgotten, but the Ram's head 
hangs enshrined on a palace wall to-day, a 
treasure among kingly treasures ; and men, 
when they gaze on those marvellous horns, 
still talk of the glorious Gunder Ram who 
grew them far away on the heights of the 
Kootenay. 



10 Ut , 




randy: a street troubadour 



BEING THE ADVENTURES OF A COCK 
SPARROW 



lUi 







J 



RANDY: A STREET TROUBADOUR 

BEING THE ADVENTURES OF A 
COCK SPARROW 



SUCH a chirruping, such a twittering, and 
such a squirming, fluttering mass ! Half 
a dozen English Sparrows rolling over 
and chattering around one another in the Fifth 
Avenue gutter, and in the middle of the mob, 
when it scattered somewhat, could be seen the 
cause of it all — a little Hen Sparrow, vigor- 
ously, indignantly defending herself against the 
crowd of noisy suitors. They seemed to be 
making love to her, but their methods were so 
rough they might have been a lynching party. 
They plucked, worried, and harried the indig- 
nant little lady in a manner utterly disgraceful, 
except that it was noticeable they did her no 
serious harm. She, however, laid about her 
with a will. Under no compulsion to spare 
her tormentors, apparently she would have 
slaughtered them all if she could. 

71 



"]2 Randy: a Street Trotibadour 

It seemed clear that they were making love 
to her, but it seemed equally clear that she 
wanted none of them, and having partly con- 
vinced them of this at the point of her beak, 
she took advantage of a brief scattering of the 
assailants to fly up to the nearest eaves, dis- 
playing in one wing, as she went, some white 
feathers that afforded a mark to know her by, 
and may have been one of her chief charms. 



II 

A Cock Sparrow, in the pride of his black 
cravat and white collar-points, was hard at 
work building in a bird-house that some chil- 
dren had set on a pole in the garden for such 
as he. He was a singular Bird in several re- 
spects. The building-material that he selected 
was all twigs, that must have been brought 
from Madison or Union Square, and in the 
early morning he sometimes stopped work for 
a minute to utter a loud sweet song, much like 
that of a Canary. 

It is not usual for a Cock Sparrow to build 
alone. But then this was an unusual Bird. 
After a week he had apparently finished the 
nest, for the bird-house was crammed to the 
very door with twigs purloined from the mu- 



Randy : a Street Troubaeloicr 73 

nicipal shade-trees. He had now more leisure 
for music, and astonished the people about by 
frequent rendering of his long, unsparrow-like 
ditty ; and he might have gone down to his- 
tory as an unaccountable mystery, but that a 
barber bird-fancier on Sixth Avenue supplied 
the missing chapters of his early life. 

This man, it seems, had put a Sparrow's egg 
into the wicker basket-nest of his Canaries. 
The youngster had duly hatched, and had been 
trained by the foster-parents. Their specialt}?- 
was song. He had the lungs and robustness of 
his own race. The Canaries had trained him 
well, and the result was a songster who made 
up in energy what he lacked in native talent. 
Strong and pugnacious, as well as musical, this 
vociferous roustabout had soon made himself 
master of the cage. He had no hesitation in 
hammering into silence a Canary that he could 
not put down by musical superiority, and after 
one of these little victories his strains were 
so unusually good that the barber had a stuffed 
Canary provided for the boisterous musician 
to vanquish whenever he wished to favor some 
visitor with Randy's exultant pasans of victory. 
He worried into silent subjection all of the 
Canaries he was caged with, and when finally 
kept by himself nothing angered him more than 



74 Randy : a Street Trotibadotir 

to be near some voluble songster that he could 
neither silence nor get at. On these occasions 
he forgot his music, and his own Sparrow nat- 
ure showed in the harsh chirrup, chirrup that 
has apparently been developed to make itself 
appreciated in the din of street traffic. 

By the time his black bib had appeared he 
had made himself one of the chief characters 
and quite the chief attraction of the barber- 
shop. But one day the shelf on which the 
bird-cages stood gave way, all the cages were 
dashed to the floor, and in the general smash 
many of the Birds escaped. Among them was 
Randy, or, more properly, Bertrand, as this pug- 
nacious songster was named after the famous 
Troubadour. The Canaries had voluntarily re- 
turned to their cages, or permitted themselves 
to be caught. But Randy hopped out of a back 
window, chirruped a few times, sang a defiant 
answer to the elevated-railway whistle, and 
keeping just out of reach of all attempts to capt- 
ure him, he began to explore the brick wilder- 
ness about. He had not been a prisoner for 
generations. He readily accepted the new con- 
dition of freedom, and within a week was almost 
as wild as any of his kin, and had degenerated 
into a little street rowdy like the others, squab- 
bling among them in the gutter, giving them 



Randy : a Sti^eet Troubadoiir 75 

blow for blow, or surprising all hearers with 
occasional bursts of Canary music delivered 
with Sparrow energy. 



Ill 

This, then, was Randy, who had selected the 
bird-house for a nesting-place, and the reason 
for his intemperance in the matter of twigs is 
now clear. The only nest he had ever known 
was of basketwork ; therefore a proper nest is 
made of twigs. 

Within a few days Randy appeared with a 
mate. I might have forgotten the riot scene 
in the gutter, as such things are common, but 
that I now recognized in Randy's bride the 
little white-winged Biddy Sparrow that had 
caused it. 

She had apparently accepted Randy, but she 
was still putting on airs, pecking at him when 
he came near. He was squirming around with 
drooping wings and tilted tail, chirping like 
any other ardent Cock Sparrow, but occasion- 
ally stopping to show off his Canary accom- 
plishment. 

Any objections she may have had were ap- 
parently overcome, possibly by this astonish- 
ing display of genius, and he escorted her to the 



76 Randy : a Street Trotibadonr 

ready-made nest, running in ahead to show the 
way, and hopping proudly, noisily, officiously 
about her. She followed him, but came out 
again quickl}^ with Randy after her chirping 
and beseeching. He chattered a long time be- 
fore he could persuade her to reenter, but again 
she came out immediately, this time sputtering 
and scolding. Again he seemed to exert his 
power of persuasion, and finally she went in 
chattering, reappeared with a twig in her bill, 
dropped it, and flew away out of sight. Randy 
came out. All his joy and pride in his house 
were gone. This was a staggering blow, when 
he had looked for unmitigated commendation. 
He sat disconsolately on the door-step for a 
minute, and chirruped in a way that probably 
meant, **Come back, come back!'* But his 
bride did not come. He turned into the house. 
There was a scratching sound, and he came 
out at once with a large stick and flung it from 
the door to the ground. He returned for an- 
other, sent that flying after the first, and so 
went on, dragging out and hurling down all 
the sticks he had so carefully and laboriously 
carried in. That wonderful forked one that 
had given so much trouble to get here from 
Union Square, and those two smooth ones, 
just like the ones in his foster-mother's nest — 



Randy : a Street Troitbadoicr 77 

all, all must go. For over an hour he toiled away 
in silence and alone. Then, apparently, he had 
ended his task, for on the ground below was 
a pile of sticks, as big as a bonfire, the labor of 
a week undone. Randy glared fiercely at them 
and at the empty house, gave a short, harsh 
chirp, probably a Sparrow bad word, then flew 
away. 

Next day he reappeared with Biddy, fussing 
about her in passerine exuberance once more, 
and chirping as he led her to the door again. 
She hopped in, then out, looked aslant at the 
twigs below, went back in, reappeared with a 
very small twig that had been overlooked, 
dropped it, and with evident satisfaction watched 
it fall on the pile below. After running in and 
out a dozen times they set off together, and 
presently returned, Biddy with her bill full of 
hay. Randy with one straw. These were car- 
ried in and presumably arranged satisfactorily. 
Then they went for more hay, and having got 
Randy set right, she remained in the box to ar- 
range the hay as he brought it, only occasion- 
ally going for a load when he was long in com- 
ing. It was marvellous to see how the chivalry 
in this aggressive musician was reducing him 
to subjection. It seemed a good opportunity to 
try their tastes. I put out thirty short strings 



yS Randy : a Street Troubadour 

and ribbons in a row on a balcony near. Fif- 
teen were common strips, eight were gaudy 
strips, and seven were bright silk ribbons. 
Every other one in the row was a dull string. 
Biddy was the first to see this arra}^ of material. 
She flew down, looked over it, around it, left 
eye, right eye ; then decided to let it alone. But 
Randy came closer; he was not unfamiliar with 
threads. He hopped this way, then that, pulled 
at a thread, started back, but came nearer, nib- 
bled at one or two, then made a dart at a string 
and bore it away. Next time Biddy came, and 
each bore off a string. They took only the dull 
ones, but after these were gone Biddy selected 
some of the brighter material, though even she 
did not venture on the gaudiest ribbons, and 
Randy would have no hand in bringing home 
any but the soberest and most stick-like materi- 
als. The nest was now half done. Randy once 
more ventured to carry in a stick, but a moment 
later it was whirling down to the pile below, 
with Biddy triumphantly gazing after it. Poor 
Randy ! no toleration for his hobby — all those 
splendid sticks wasted. His mother had had a 
stick nest, — a beautiful nest it was, — but he was 
overruled. Nothing but straw now ; then, not 
sticks, but softer material. He submitted — lib- 
erty had brought daily lessons of submission. 



Randy : a Street Troubadour 79 

He used to think that the barber-shop was the 
whole world, and himself the most important 
living being. But of late both these ideas had 
been badly shaken. Biddy found that his edu- 
cation had been sadly neglected in all useful 
matters, and in each new kind of material she 
had to instruct him anew. 

When the nest was two-thirds finished, Biddy, 
whose ideas were quite luxurious, began to 
carry in large soft feathers. But now Randy 
thought this was going too far. He must draw 
the line somewhere. He drew it at feather 
beds. His earliest cradle had had no such lin- 
ing. He proceeded to bundle out the objec- 
tionable feather bedding, and Biddy, returning 
with a new load, was just in time to see the first 
lot float downward from the door to join the 
stick pile below. She fluttered after them, 
seized them in the air, and returned to meet her 
lord coming out of the door with more of the 
obnoxious plumes, and there they stood, glaring 
at each other, chattering their loudest, their 
mouths full of feathers, and their hearts full of 
indignation. 

How is it that when it is a question of home 
furnishing we sympathize with the female ? I 
felt that Biddy had first right, and in the end 
she got her way. First there was a stormy time 



8o Randy : a Street Troubadour 

in which quantities of feathers were carried in 
and out of the house, or wind-borne about the 
garden. Then there was a lull, and next day 
all the feathers were carried back to the nest. 
Just how they arranged the matter will never 
be known, but it is sure that Randy himself did 
the greater part of the work, and never stopped 
till the box was crammed with the largest 
and softest of feathers. During all this they 
were usually together, but one day Biddy went 
off and stayed for some time. Randy looked 
about, chirruped, got no answer, looked up, 
then down, and far below he saw the pile of 
sticks that he had toiled to bring. Those dear 
sticks, just like the home of his early da3's! 
Randy fluttered down. There was the curious 
forked one still. The temptation was irresist- 
ible. Randy picked it up and hurried to the 
nest, then in. It had always been a difficult 
twig to manage — that side prong would catch 
at the door ; but he had carried it so often 
now that he knew how. After half a minute's 
delay inside, while he was placing it, I suppose, 
he came out again, looked perkily about, 
preened and shook himself, then sang his Ca- 
nary song from beginning to end several times, 
tried some new bars, and seemed extremely 
happy. When Bidd}^ came with more feathers, 




Randy Drew the Line at Feather Beds. 



Randy : a Street Troubadour 8i 

he assiduously helped her to place them inside, 
and then the nest was finished. Two days 
later I got up to the nest, and in it found one 
^ZZ' The Sparrows saw^ me go up, but did not 
fly chattering about my head, as do most Birds. 
They flew away to a distance, and watched anx- 
iously from the shelter of some chimneys. 

The third day there was a great commotion 
in the box, a muffled scuffling and chattering, 
and once or twice a tail appeared at the door 
as though the owner were trying to back out. 
Then it seemed that something was being 
dragged about. At length the owner of the 
tail came out far enough to show that it was 
Biddy ; but, apparently, she was pulled in 
again. Evidently a disgraceful family brawl 
was on. It was quite unaccountable, until 
finally Biddy struggled out of the door, drag- 
ging Randy's pet twig to throw it contemptu- 
ously on the ground below. She had discov- 
ered it in the bedding w^here he had hidden it ; 
hence the row. But I do not see how^ she could 
drag it out when he was resisting. I suspect 
that he really weakened for the sake of peace. 
In the scuffle and general upset the ^^^ — their 
first arrival — was unfortunately tumbled out 
with the stick, and fell down to lie below, in 
porcelain fragments, on a wet yellow back-^ 



82 Randy: a Street Troubadour 

ground. The Sparrows did not seem to trouble 
about the remains. Having dropped from the 
nest, it had dropped out of their world. 



IV 

After this the pair got along peaceably for 
several days. Egg after ^^^^ was added to the 
nest. In a week there were five, and the two 
seemed now to be quite happy together. 
Randy sang to the astonishment of all the 
neighborhood, and Biddy carried in more 
feathers as though preparing to set and antici- 
pating a blizzard. But about this time it oc- 
curred to me to try a little experiment with the 
pair. Watching my chance, late one evening, 
I dropped a marble into the luxurious nest. 
What happened at once I do not know, but 
early the next morning I was out on Fifth 
Avenue near the corner of Twenty-first Street. 
It was Sunday. The street was very quiet, but 
a ring of perhaps a dozen people were standing 
gazing at something in the gutter. As I came 
near I heard occasional chirruping, and getting 
a view into the ring, I saw two Sparrows 
locked in fierce combat, chirruping a little, but 
hammering and pecking away in deadly ear- 
nest. They scuffled around, regardless of the 



Randy : a Street Trotcbadour 83 

bystanders, for some time ; but when at length 
they paused for breath, and sat back on their 
tails and heels to gasp, I was quite shocked to 
recognize Biddy and Randy. After another 
round they were shooed away by one of the on- 
lookers, who evidently disapproved of Sunday 
brawling. They then flew to the nearest roof 
to go on as before. That afternoon I found 
below the nest not onl}^ the intrusive marble, 
but also the remains of the five eggs, all alike 
thrown out, and I suspect that the presence of 
that curious hard round egg in the nest, and 
the obvious implication, were the cause of the 
brawl. 

Whether Biddy had been able to explain it or 
not I do not know, but it seemed that the couple 
decided to forget the past and begin again. 
There was evidently neither luck nor peace 
in that bird-box, so they abandoned it, feathers 
and all ; and Biddy, Avhose ideas were distinctly 
original, selected the site this time, nothing less 
than the top of an electric lamp in the middle 
of Madison Square. All week they labored, 
and in spite of a high wind most of the time, 
they finished they nest. It is hard to see how 
the Birds could sleep at night with that great 
glaring buzzing light under their noses. Still, 
Biddy seemed pleased, Randy was learning to 



84 Randy : a Street Troubadour 

suppress his own opinion, and all would have 
gone well but that before that first ^^^ was laid 
the carbon-points of the light burned out and the 
man who put in the new ones thought proper to 
consign remorselessly the whole of the Biddy- 
Randy mansion to the garbage-can. A Robin 
or a Swallow might have felt this a crushing 
blow, but there is no limit to a Sparrow's en- 
ergy and hopefulness. Evidently it was the 
wrong kind of a nest. Probably the material 
was at fault. At any rate, a radical change 
would be much better. After embezzling some 
long straws from the nest of an absent neigh- 
bor, Biddy laid them in the high fork of an 
elm-tree in Madison Square Park, by way of 
letting Randy know that this was the place 
now selected ; and Randy, having learned by 
this time that it was less trouble to accept her 
decision than to offer an opinion of his own, 
sang a Canary trill on two chirps, and set 
about rummaging in the garbage-heaps for 
choice building -material, winking hard and 
looking the other way when a nice twig pre- 
sented itself. 



Randy: a Street Ti^oiibadoiir 85 



On the other side of the Square was the 
nest of a pair of very unpopular Sparrows. 
The male bird in particular had made himself 
thoroughly disliked. He was a big, handsome 
fellow with an enormous black cravat, but an 
out-and-out bully. Might is right in Sparrow- 
world. Their causes for quarrel are food, 
mates, quarters, and nesting-material — pretty 
much as with ourselves. This arrogant little 
Bird, by reason of his strength, had the mate of 
his choice and the best nesting-site, and was 
adding to it all the most admired material in the 
Square. My Sparrows had avoided the gaudy 
ribbons I offered. They were not educated up 
to that pitch, but they certainly had their 
aesthetic preferences. A few Guinea-fowl 
feathers that originally came from Central 
Park Menagerie had been stolen from one nest 
to another, till now they rested in the sumpt- 
uous home with which Cravat and his wife had 
embellished one of the marble capitals of the 
new bank. The Bully did much as he pleased 
in the Park, and one day, on hearing Randy^s 
song, flew at him. Randy had been a terror 
among Canaries, but against Cravat he had but 
little chance. He did his best, but was de- 



86 Randy : a Street Troitbadour 

feated, and took refuge in flight. Puffed up 
by this victory, the Bully flew to Randy's new 
nest, and after a more or less scornful scrutiny 
proceeded to drag out some strings that he 
thought he might use at home. Randy had 
been worsted, but the sight of this pillage 
roused the doughty Troubadour again, and he 
flew at the BuU}^ as before. From the branches 
they tumbled to the ground. Other Sparrows 
joined in, and, shame to tell! they joined with 
the big fellow against the comparative stranger. 
Randy was getting very roughly handled, 
feathers began to float away, when into the ring 
flashed a little Hen Sparrow with white wing- 
feathers, chirrup, chirrup, wallop, wallop, she 
went into it. Oh, how she did lay about her ! 
The Sparrows that had joined in for fun now 
went off : there was no longer any fun in it, 
nothing but hard pecks, and the tables were 
completely turned on Cravat. He quickly lost 
heart, then, and fled toward his own quarter of 
the Square, with Biddy holding on to his tail 
like a little bulldog; and there she continued to 
hang till the feather came out by the roots, 
and she afterward had the satisfaction of work- 
ing it into the coarser make-up of her nest 
along with the rescued material. It is hardly 
possible that Sparrows have refined ideas of 



Randy : a Street Troubadour 87 

justice and retribution, but it is sure that things 
which look like it do crop up among them. 
Within two days the Guinea-fowl feathers that 
had so long been the chief glory of the Cravat's 
nest now formed part of the furnishing of Bid- 
dy's new abode, and none had the temerity to 
dispute her claim. 

It was now late in the season, feathers were 
scarce, and Biddy could not find enough for the 
lining that she was so particular about. But 
she found a substitute that appealed to her love 
of the novel. In the Square was the cab-stand, 
and scattering near were usually more or less 
horsehairs. These seemed to be good and 
original linings. A most happy thought, and 
with appropriate enthusiasm the ever-hopeful 
couple set about gathering horsehairs, two or 
three at a time. Possibly the nest of a Chipping 
Sparrow in one of the parks gave them the 
idea. The Chippy always lines with horsehair, 
and gets an admirable spring-mattress effect by 
curling the hair round and round the inside of 
the nest. The result is good, but one must 
know how to get it. It would have been well 
had the Sparrows learned how to handle the 
hair. When a Chippy picks up a horsehair to 
bring home it takes only one at a time, and is 
careful to lift it by the end, for the harmless- 



88 Randy : a Sti'ect Troubadour 

looking hair is not without its dangers. The 
Sparrows had no notion of handling it except 
as they did the straw. Biddy seized a hair near 
the middle, found it somewhat long, so took a 
second hold, several inches away. In most 
cases this made a great loop in the hair over 
her head or beyond her beak. But it was a 
convenient way to manage, and at first no mis- 
chief came, though Chippy, had she seen, 
might well have shuddered at the idea of that 
threatening noose. 

It was the last day of the lining. Biddy had 
in some way given Randy to understand that 
no more hair was needed, and, proud and 
bustling, she was adding a few finishing touches 
and a final hair while he was trying some new 
variations of his finest bars on top of Farragut's 
head, when a loud alarm chirrup from Biddy 
caught his ear. He looked toward the new 
home to see her struggling up and down with- 
out apparent reason, and yet unable to get more 
than her length away from the nest. She had 
at last put her head through one of those dan- 
gerous hair nooses, made by herself, and by 
mischance had tightened and twisted it so that 
she was caught. The more she struggled and 
twisted the tighter became the noose. Randy 
now discovered that he was deeply attached to 



Raiidy : a Street Troubadoicr 89 

this wilful little termagant. He became greatly 
excited, and flew about chattering. He tried 
to release her by pulling at her foot, but that 
only made matters worse. All their efforts 
were in vain. Several new kinks were added 
to the hair. Other hairs from the nest seemed 
to join in the plot, and, tangled and inter- 
meshed, they tightened even more, till the 
group of wondering, upturned child faces in 
the Park below were centred on a tousled 
feathery form hanging still and silent in the 
place of the bustling, noisy, energetic Biddy 
Sparrow. 

Poor Randy seemed deeply distressed. The 
neighbor Sparrows had come at the danger- 
call note, and joined heir cries with his, but 
had not been able to help the victim. Now 
they went off to their own squabbles and 
troubles, and Randy hopped about chirping or 
sat still with drooping wings. It was long be- 
fore he realized that she was dead, and all that 
day he exerted himself to interest her and make 
her join in their usual life. At night he rested 
alone in one of the trees, and at gray dawn was 
bustling about, singing occasionally and chir- 
ruping around the nest, from whose rim, in the 
fateful horsehair, hung Biddy, stiff and silent 
now. 



90 Randy : a Street Troubadour 

VI 

Randy had never been an alert Sparrow. 
His Canary training had really handicapped 
him. He was venturesome and heedless with 
carriages as well as with children. This pe- 
culiarity was greatly increased by his present 
preoccupation, and while foraging somewhat 
listlessly on Madison Avenue, that afternoon, 
a messenger-boy on a wheel came silently up, 
and before Randy realized his danger, the 
wheel was on his tail. As he struggled to get 
away, even at the price of his tail, his right 
wing flashed under the hind wheel, and then 
he was crippled. The boy rode on, and Randy 
managed to flutter and hop away toward the 
sheltering trees. A little girl, assisted by her 
small dog, captured the cripple, after an excit- 
ing chase among the benches. She took him 
home, and moved by what her brothers consid- 
ered sadly misplaced tenderness, she caged and 
nursed him. When he began to recover, he 
one day surprised them by singing his Canary 
song. 

This created quite a stir in the household. 
In time a newspaper reporter heard of it. The 
inevitable write-up followed, and this met the 
eye of the Sixth Avenue barber. He came 



Randy: a Street Trottbadour 91 

with many witnesses to claim his bird, and at 
length his claim was allowed. 

So Randy is once more in a cage, carefully 
watched and fed, the central figure in a small 
world, and not at all unhappy. After all, he 
was never a truly wild Bird. It was an acci- 
dent that set him free originally. An accident 
had mated him with Biddy. Their brief life 
together had been a succession of storms and 
accidents. An accident had taken her away, 
and another accident had renewed his cage 
life. This life, comparatively calm and un- 
eventful, has given him an opportunity to cul- 
tivate his musical gifts, for he is in a very 
conservatory of music, and close at hand are 
his old tutors and foster-parents. 

Sometimes when left alone he amuses himself 
by beginning a rude nest of sticks, but he looks 
guilty, and leaves that corner of the cage when 
any one comes near. If a few feathers are 
given him they are worked into the nest at 
first, but next morning are invariably found on 
the floor below. These persistent attempts at 
nesting suggested that he wanted a mate, and 
several were furnished on approval, but the 
result was not happy. Prompt interference 
was needed each time to prevent bloodshed 
and to rescue the intended bride. So the 



92 Randy :, a Street Troubadour 

attempt was given up. Evidently this Trouba- 
dour wants no new lady-love. His songs seem 
to be rather of war, for the barber has discov- 
ered that when he wishes to provoke Randy 
into his most rapturous musical expression it 
is only necessary to let him demolish, not the 
eflfigy of a Canary, but a stuffed Cock Sparrow. 
And on these occasions Randy develops an 
enthusiasm almost amounting to inspiration if 
the dummy have a very well marked black 
patch on the throat. 

This, however, is mere by-play. All his best 
energies are devoted to song. And if you 
stumble on the right barber-shop you may see 
this energetic recluse, forgetting the cares, 
joys, and sorrows of active life in his devotion 
to music, like some monk who has tried the 
world, found it too hard for him, and has gladly 
returned to his cell, there to devote the rest of 
his days to purely spiritual pleasures. 




JOHNNY BEAR 










I^^fk .«ti-^-^^-^^^ 



-— # 







4^ 



"^i 




5?' 



JOHNNY BEAR 



JOHNNY was a queer little Bear cub that 
lived with Grumpy, his mother, in the 
Yellowstone Park. They were among 
the many bears that found a desirable home in 
the country about the Fountain Hotel. 

The steward of the Hotel had ordered the 
kitchen garbage to be dumped in an open glade 
of the surrounding forest, thus providing 
throughout the season, a daily feast for the 
Bears, and their numbers have increased each 
year since the law of the land has made the 
Park a haven of refuge where no wild thing may 
be harmed. They have accepted man's peace- 
offering, and many of them have become so 
well known to the Hotel men that they have 
received names suggested by their looks or 
ways. Slim Jim was a very long-legged thin 
Blackbear ; Snuffy was a Blackbear that looked 
as though he had been singed ; Fatty was a 
very fat, lazy Bear that always lay down to eat ; 
the Twins were two half-grown, ragged speci- 

95 



q6 Johnny Bear 

mens that always came and went together. 
But Grumpy and Little Johnny were the best 
known of them all. 

Grumpy was the biggest and fiercest of the 
Blackbears, and Johnny, apparently her only 
son, was a peculiarly tiresome little cub, for 
he seemed never to cease either grumbling or 
whining. This probably meant that he was 
sick, for a healthy little Bear does not grumble 
all the time, any more than a healthy child. 
And indeed Johnny looked sick ; he was the 
most miserable specimen in the Park. His 
whole appearance suggested dyspepsia ; and 
this I quite understood when I saw the awful 
mixtures he would eat at that garbage-heap. 
Anything at all that he fancied he would try. 
And his mother allowed him to do as he 
pleased ; so, after all, it was chiefly her fault, for 
she should not have permitted such things. 

Johnny had only three good legs, his coat 
was faded and mangy, his limbs were thin, and 
his ears and paunch were disproportionately 
large. Yet his mother thought the world of 
him. She was evidently convinced that he was 
a little beauty and the Prince of all Bears, so, of 
course, she quite spoiled him. She was always 
ready to get into trouble on his account, and he 
was always delighted to lead her there. Al- 



Johnny Bear 97 

though such a wretched little failure, Johnny 
was far from being a fool, for he usually knew 
just what he wanted and how to get it, if teas- 
ing his mother could carry the point. 



II 

It was in the summer of 1897 that I made 
their acquaintance. I was in the Park to study 
the home life of the animals, and had been told 
that in the woods, near the Fountain Hotel, I 
could see Bears at any time, which, of course, I 
scarcely believed. But on stepping out of the 
back door five minutes after arriving, I came 
face to face with a large Blackbear and her two 
cubs. 

I stopped short, not a little startled. The 
Bears also stopped and sat up to look at me. 
Then Mother Bear made a curious short Koff 
Koffy and looked toward a near pine-tree. The 
cubs seemed to know what she meant, for they 
ran to this tree and scrambled up like two lit- 
tle monkeys, and when safely aloft they sat like 
small boys, holding on with their hands, while 
their little black legs dangled in the air, and 
waited to see what was to happen down below. 

The Mother Bear, still on her hind legs, came 
slowly toward me, and I began to feel very 



98 Johnny Bear 

uncomfortable indeed, for she stood about six 
feet high in her stockings and had apparently 
never heard of the magical power of the hu- 
man eye. 

I had not even a stick to defend myself with, 
and when she gave a low growl, I was about to 
retreat to the Hotel, although previously as- 
sured that the Bears have always kept their 
truce with man. However, just at this turning- 
point the old one stopped, now but thirty feet 
away, and continued to survey me calmly. She 
seemed in doubt for a minute, but evidently 
made up her mind that, "• although that human 
thing might be all right, she would take no 
chances for her little ones.'' 

She looked up to her tw^o hopefuls, and gave 
a peculiar whining Er-r-r Er-r, whereupon 
they, like obedient children, jumped, as at the 
word of command. There was nothing about 
them heavy or bear-like as commonly under- 
stood ; lightly they swung from bough to bough 
till they dropped to the ground, and all went 
off together into the woods. I was much 
tickled by the prompt obedience of the little 
Bears. As soon as their mother told them to 
do something they did it. They did not even 
offer a suggestion. But I also found out that 
there was a good reason for it, for had they not 



Johnny Bear 99 

done as she had told them they would have 
got such a spanking as would have made them 
howl. 

This was a delightful peep into Bear home 
life, and would have been well worth coming 
for, if the insight had ended there. But my 
friends in the Hotel said that that was not the 
best place for Bears. I should go to the gar- 
bage-heap, a quarter-mile off in the forest. 
There, they said, I surely could see as many 
Bears as I wished (which was absurd of them). 

Early the next morning I went to this Bears' 
Banqueting Hall in the pines, and hid in the 
nearest bushes. 

Before very long a large Blackbear came 
quietly out of the woods to the pile, and began 
turning over the garbage and feeding. He was 
very nervous, sitting up and looking about at 
each slight sound, or running away a few yards 
when startled by some trifle. At length he 
cocked his ears and galloped off into the pines, 
as another Blackbear appeared. He also be- 
haved in the same timid manner, and at last 
ran away when I shook the bushes in trying to 
get a better view. 

At the outset I myself had been very ner- 
vous, for of course no man is allowed to carry 
weapons in the Park ; but the timidity of these 



lOO Johnny Bear 

Bears reassured me, and thenceforth I forgot 
everything in the interest of seeing the great, 
shaggy creatures in their home life. 

Soon I realized I could not get the close in- 
sight I wished from that bush, as it was seven- 
ty-five yards from the garbage-pile. There was 
none nearer; so I did the only thing left to do: 
I went to the garbage-pile itself, and, digging a 
hole big enough to hide in, remained there all 
day long, with cabbage-stalks, old potato-peel- 
ings, tomato-cans, and carrion piled up in odor- 
ous heaps around me. Notwithstanding the 
opinions of countless flies, it was not an attrac- 
tive place. Indeed, it was so unfragrant that 
at night, when I returned to the Hotel, I was 
not allowed to come in until after I had 
changed my clothes in the woods. 

It had been a trying ordeal, but I surely did 
see Bears that day. If I may reckon it a new 
Bear each time one came, I must have seen 
over forty. But of course it was not, for the 
Bears were coming and going. And yet I am 
certain of this : there were at least thirteen 
Bears, for I had thirteen about me at one time. 

All that day I used my sketch-book and 
journal. Every Bear that came was duly noted ; 
and this process soon began to give the desired 
insight into their ways and personalities. 



Johnny Bear loi 

Many unobservant persons think and say that 
all Negroes, or all Chinamen, as well as all ani- 
mals of a kind, look alike. But just as surely 
as each human being differs from the next, so 
surely each animal is different from its fellow ; 
otherwise how would the old ones know their 
mates or the little ones their mother, as they 
certainly do ? These feasting Bears gave a 
good illustration of this, for each had its indi- 
viduality ; no two were quite alike in appear- 
ance or in character. 

This curious fact also appeared : I could hear 
the Woodpeckers pecking over one hundred 
yards away in the woods, as well as the Chicka- 
dees chickadeeing, the Blue-jays blue-jaying, 
and even the Squirrels scampering across the 
leafy forest floor ; and yet I did not hear one of 
these Bears come. Their huge, padded feet al- 
ways went down in exactly the right spot to 
break no stick, to rustle no leaf, showing how 
perfectly they had learned the art of going in 
silence through the woods. 

Ill 

All morning the Bears came and went or 
wandered near my hiding-place without discov- 
ering me ; and, except for one or two brief 
quarrels, there was nothing very exciting to 



I02 Johnny Bear 

note. But about three in the afternoon it 
became more lively. 

There were then four large Bears feeding on 
the heap. In the middle was Fatty, sprawling 
at full length as he feasted, a picture of placid 
ursine content, puffing just a little at times as 
he strove to save himself the trouble of moving 
by darting out his tongue like a long red ser- 
pent, farther and farther, in quest of the tidbits 
just beyond claw reach. 

Behind him Slim Jim was puzzling over the 
anatomy and attributes of an ancient lobster. 
It was something outside his experience, but 
the principle, '' In case of doubt take the trick," 
is well known in Bearland, and settled the 
difficult3\ 

The other two were clearing out fruit-tins 
with marvellous dexterity. One supple paw 
would hold the tin while the long tongue would 
dart again and again through the narrow open- 
ing, avoiding the sharp edges, yet cleaning out 
the can to the last taste of its sweetness. 

This pastoral scene lasted long enough to be 
sketched, but was ended abruptly. My eye 
caught a movement on the hilltop whence all 
the Bears had come, and out stalked a very 
large Blackbear with a tiny cub. It was 
Grumpy and Little Johnny. 



Johnny Bear 103 

The old Bear stalked down the slope toward 
the feast, and Johnny hitched alongside, grum- 
bling as he came, his mother watching him as 
solicitously as ever a hen did her single chick. 
When they were within thirty yards of the gar- 
bage-heap, Grumpy turned to her son and said 
something which, judging from its effect, must 
have meant: *' Johnny, my child, I think j^ou 
had better stay here while I go and chase those 
fellows away.'* 

Johnny obediently waited ; but he wanted to 
see, so he sat up on his hind legs with eyes 
agog and ears acock. 

Grumpy came striding along with dignity, 
uttering warning growls as she approached the 
four Bears. They were too much engrossed to 
pay any heed to the fact that yet another one 
of them was coming, till Grumpy, now within 
fifteen feet, let out a succession of loud cough- 
ing sounds, and charged into them. Strange 
to say, they did not pretend to face her, but, as 
soon as they saw who it was, scattered and all 
fled for the woods. 

Slim Jim could safely trust his heels, and the 
other two were not far behind ; but poor Fatty, 
puffing hard and waddling like any other very 
fat creature, got along but slowly, and, unluck- 
ily for him, he fled in the direction of Johnny, 



T04 Johnny Bear 

so that Grumpy overtook him in a few bounds 
and gave him a couple of sound slaps in the 
rear which, if they did not accelerate his pace, 
at least made him bawl, and saved him by 
changing his direction. Grumpy, now left 
alone in possession of the feast, turned toward 
her son and uttered the whining Er-r-r Er-r-r 
Er-r-r-r, Johnny responded eagerly. He 
came ''hopity-hop'* on his three good legs as 
fast as he could, and, joining her on the gar- 
bage, they began to have such a good time 
that Johnny actually ceased grumbling. 

He had evidently been there before now, for 
he seemed to know quite well the staple kinds 
of canned goods. One might almost have sup- 
posed that he had learned the brands, for a 
lobster-tin had no charm for him as long as he 
could find those that once were filled with jam. 
Some of the tins gave him much trouble, as he 
was too greedy or too clumsy to escape being 
scratched by the sharp edges. One seductive 
fruit-tin had a hole so large that he found he 
could force his head into it, and for a few min- 
utes his joy v^as full as he licked into all the 
farthest corners. But when he tried to draw 
his head out, his sorrows began, for he found 
himself caught. He could not get out, and he 
scratched and screamed like any other spoiled 



Johnny Bear 105 

child, giving his mother no end of concern, 
although she seemed not to know how to help 
him. When at length he got the tin off his 
head, he revenged himself by hammering it 
with his paws till it was perfectly flat. 

A large sirup-can made him happy for a 
long time. It had had a lid, so that the hole 
was round and smooth ; but it was not big 
enough to admit his head, and he could not 
touch its riches with his tongue stretched out 
its longest. He soon hit on a plan, however. 
Putting in his little black arm, he churned it 
around, then drew out and licked it clean ; and 
while he licked one he got the other one ready ; 
and he did this again and again, until the can 
was as clean inside as when first it had left the 
factory. 

A broken mouse-trap seemed to puzzle him. 
He clutched it between his fore-paws, their 
strong inturn being sympathetically reflected 
in his hind feet, and held it firmly for study. 
The cheesy smell about it was decidedly good, 
but the thing responded in such an uncanny 
way, when he slapped it, that he kept back a 
cry for help only by the exercise of unusual 
self-control. After gravely inspecting it, with 
his head first on this side and then on that, and 
his lips puckered into a little tube, he submit- 



io6 Johnny Bear 

ted it to the same punishment as that meted 
out to the refractory fruit-tin, and was reward- 
ed by discovering a nice little bit of cheese in 
the very heart of the culprit. 

Johnny had evidently never heard of pto- 
maine poisoning, for nothing came amiss. 
After the jams and fruits gave out he turned 
his attention to the lobster- and sardine-cans, 
and was not appalled by even the army beef. 
His paunch grew quite balloon-like, and from 
much licking his arms looked thin and shiny, as 
though he was wearing black silk gloves. 



IV 

It occurred to me that I might now be in 
a really dangerous place. For it is one thing 
surprising a Bear that has no family responsi- 
bilities, and another stirring up a bad-tempered 
old mother by frightening her cub. 

'' Supposing,'' I thought, *'that cranky Little 
Johnny should wander over to this end of the 
garbage and find me in the hole ; he will at once 
set up a squall, and his mother, of course, 
will think I am hurting him, and, without 
giving me a chance to explain, may forget 
the rules of the Park and make things very 
unpleasant/* 



Johnny Bear 107 

Luckil}', all the jam-pots were at Johnny's 
end ; he stayed by them, and Grumpy stayed 
by him. At length he noticed that his mother 
had a better tin than any he could find, and as 
he ran whining to take it from her he chanced 
to glance away up the slope. There he saw 
something that made him sit up and utter a 
curious little Koff Koff Koff Koff. 

His mother turned quickly, and sat up to see 
'* what the child was looking at." I followed 
their gaze, and there, oh horrors ! w^as an 
enormous Grizzly Bear. He was a monster ; 
he looked like a fur-clad omnibus coming 
through the trees. 

Johnny set up a whine at once and got be- 
hind his mother. She uttered a deep growl, 
and all her back hair stood on end. Mine did 
too, but I kept as still as possible. 

With stately tread the Grizzly came on. 
His vast shoulders sliding along his sides, and 
his silvery robe swaying at each tread, like the 
trappings on an elephant, gave an impression 
of power that was appalling. 

Johnny began to whine more loudly, and I 
fully sympathized with him now, though I did 
not join in. After a moment's hesitation 
Grumpy turned to her noisy cub and said 
something that sounded to me like two or 



io8 Johnny Bear 

three short coughs — Koff Koff Koff. But I 
imagine that she really said : '' My child, 1 
think you had better get up that tree, while I 
go and drive the brute away." 

At any rate, that was what Johnny did, and 
this what she set out to do. But Johnny had 
no notion of missing any fun. He wanted to 
see what was going to happen. So he did not 
rest contented where he was hidden in the thick 
branches of the pine, but combined safety with 
view by clim.bing to the topmost branch that 
would bear him, and there, sharp against the 
sky, he squirmed about and squealed aloud in 
his excitement. The branch was so small that 
it bent under his Aveight, swaying this way and 
that as he shifted about, and every moment I 
expected to see it snap off. If it had been 
broken when swaying my way, Johnny would 
' certainly have fallen on me, and this would 
probably have resulted in bad feelings between 
myself and his mother ; but the limb was 
tougher than it looked, or perhaps Johnny had 
had plenty of experience, for he neither lost his 
hold nor broke the branch. 

Meanwhile, Grumpy stalked out to meet the 
Grizzly. She stood as high as she could and 
set all her bristles on end ; then, growling and 
chopping her teeth, she faced him. 




But Johnny Wanted to See. 



Johnny Bear 109 

The Grizzly, so far as I could see, took no 
notice of her. He came striding toward the 
feast as though alone. But when Grumpy got 
within twelve feet of him she uttered a succes- 
sion of short, coughy roars, and, charging, gave 
him a tremendous blow on the ear. The 
Grizzly was surprised ; but he replied with a 
left-hander that knocked her over like a sack of 
hay. 

Nothing daunted, but doubly furious, she 
jumped up and rushed at him. 

Then they clinched and rolled over and over, 
whacking and pounding, snorting and growling, 
and making no end of dust and rumpus. But 
above all their noise I could clearly hear Little 
Johnny, yelling at the top of his voice, and ev- 
idently encouraging his mother to go right in 
and finish the Grizzly at once. 

Why the Grizzly did not break her in two I 
could not understand. After a few minutes' 
struggle, during which I could see nothing but 
dust and dim flying legs, the two separated as 
by mutual consent, — perhaps the regulation 
time was up, — and for a while they stood glar- 
ing at each other, Grump}^ at least much 
winded. 

The Grizzly would have dropped the matter 
right there. He did not wish to fight. He had 



no Johnny Bear 

no idea of troubling himself about Johnny. All 
he wanted was a quiet meal. But no ! The 
moment he took one step toward the garbage- 
pile, that is, as Grumpy thought, toward 
Johnny, she went at him again. But this time 
the Grizzly was ready for her. With one blow 
he knocked her off her feet and sent her crash- 
ing on to a huge upturned pine-root. She was 
fairly staggered this time. The force of the 
blow, and the rude reception of the rooty ant- 
lers, seemed to take all the fight out of her. 
She scrambled over and tried to escape. But 
the Grizzly was mad now. He meant to punish 
her, and dashed around the root. For a minute 
they kept up a dodging chase about it ; but 
Grumpy was quicker of foot, and somehow al- 
ways managed to keep the root between herself 
and her foe, while Johnny, safe in the tree, con- 
tinued to take an intense and uproarious inter- 
est. 

At length, seeing he could not catch her that 
way, the Grizzly sat up on his haunches ; and 
while he doubtless was planning a new move, 
old Grumpy saw her chance, and making a 
dash, got away from the root and up to the top 
of the tree where Johnny was perched. 

Johnny came down a little way to meet her, 
or perhaps so that the tree might not break off 



Johnny Bear 1 1 1 

with the additional weight. Having photo- 
graphed this interesting group from my hiding- 
place, I thought I must get a closer picture at 
any price, and for the first time in the day's 
proceedings I jumped out of the hole and ran 
under the tree. This move proved a great mis- 
take, for here the thick lower boughs came be- 
tween, and I could see nothing at all of the 
Bears at the top. 

I was close to the trunk, and was peering 
about and seeking for a chance to use the 
camera, when old Grumpy began to come 
down, chopping her teeth and uttering her 
threatening cough at me. While I stood 
in doubt, I heard a voice far behind me call- 
ing: 

'' Say, Mister! You better look out; that ole 
B'ar is liable to hurt you.'* 

I turned to see the cow-boy of the Hotel on 
his Horse. He had been riding after the cattle, 
and chanced to pass near just as events were 
moving quickly. 

** Do you know these Bears?" said I, as he 
rode up. 

" Wall, I reckon I do," said he. *' That there 
little one up top is Johnny ; he's a little crank. 
An' the big un is Grumpy ; she's a big crank. 
She's mighty onreliable gen'relly, but she's al- 



112 Johnny Bear 

ways strictly ugly when Johnny hollers like 
that." 

'' I should much like to get her picture when 
she comes down," said I. 

" Tell ye what I'll do. I'll stay by on the 
pony, an' if she goes to bother you I reckon I 
can keep her off," said the man. 

He accordingly stood by as Grumpy slowly 
came down from branch to branch, growling 
and threatening. But when she neared the 
ground she kept on the far side of the trunk, 
and finally slipped down and ran into the 
woods, without the slightest pretence of car- 
rying out any of her dreadful threats. Thus 
Johnny was again left alone. He climbed up 
to his old perch and resumed his monotonous 
whining . 

Wall ! Wah ! Wait ! C^ Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! 
Oh, dear ! ") 

I got the camera ready, and was arranging 
deliberately to take his picture in his favorite 
and peculiar attitude for threnodic song, when 
all at once he began craning his neck and yell- 
ing, as he had done during the fight. 

I looked where his nose pointed, and here 
was the Grizzly coming on straight toward me 
— not charging, but striding along, as though 
he meant to come the whole distance. 



Johnny Bear i i 3 

I said to my cow-boy friend : '' Do you know 
this Bear?" 

He replied : '' Wall ! I reckon I do ! That^s 
the ole Grizzly. He's the biggest B'ar in the 
Park. He gen'relly minds his own business, 
but he ain't scared o' nothin' ; an' to-day, ye 
see, he's been scrappin', so he's liable to be 
ugly." 

'' I would like to take his picture," said I ; 
** and if you will help me, I am willing to take 
some chances on it." 

'' All right," said he, with a grin. '' I'll stand 
by on the Horse, an' if he charges you I'll 
charge him ; an' I kin knock him down once, 
but I can't do it twice. You better have your 
tree picked out." 

As there was only one tree to pick out, and 
that was the one that Johnny was in, the pros- 
pect was not alluring. I imagined myself 
scrambling up there next to Johnny, and then 
Johnny's mother coming up after me, with the 
Grizzly below to catch me when Grumpy 
should throw me down. 

The Grizzly came on, and I snapped him at 
forty yards, then again at twenty yards ; and 
still he came quietly toward me. I sat down 
on the garbage and made ready. Eighteen 
yards — sixteen yards — twelve yards -r- eight 



I T 4 Johnny Bear 

yards, and still he came, while the pitch of 

Johnny^s protests kept rising proportionately. 

Finally at five yards he stopped, and swung his 

huge bearded head to one side, to see what was 

making that aggravating row in the tree-top, 

giving me a profile view, and I snapped the 

camera. At the click he turned on me with a 

thunderous 

G— R— O— W— L ! 

and I sat still and trembling, wondering if my 
last moment had come. For a second he glared 
at me, and I could note the little green electric 
lamp in each of his eyes. Then he slowly 
turned and picked up — a large tomato-can. 

"Goodness!'' I thought, ''is he going to 
throw that at me? '' But he deliberately licked 
it out, dropped it, and took another, paying 
thenceforth no heed whatever either to me or 
to Johnny, evidently considering us equally be- 
neath his notice. 

I backed slowly and respectfully out of his 
royal presence, leaving him in possession of the 
garbage, while Johnny kept on caterwauling 
from his safety-perch. 

What became of Grumpy the rest of that day 
I do not know. Johnny, after bewailing for a 
time, realized that there was no sympathetic 
hearer of his cries, and therefore very saga- 



Johnny Bear 1 1 5 

ciously stopped them. Having no mother now 
to plan for him, he began to plan for himself, 
and at once proved that he was better stuff than 
he seemed. After watching, with a look of 
profound cunning on his little black face, and 
waiting till the Grizzly was some distance away, 
he silently slipped down behind the trunk, and, 
despite his three-leggedness, ran like a hare to 
the next tree, never stopping to breathe till he 
was on its topmost bough. For he was thor- 
oughly convinced that the only object that 
the Grizzly had in life was to kill him, and he 
seemed quite aware that his enemy could not 
climb a tree. 

Another long and safe survey of the Grizzly, 
who really paid no heed to him whatever, was 
followed by another dash for the next tree, 
varied occasionally by a cunning feint to mis- 
lead the foe. So he went dashing from tree to 
tree and climbing each to its very top, although 
it might be but ten feet from the last, till he 
disappeared in the w^oods. After, perhaps, ten 
minutes, his voice again came floating on the 
breeze, the habitual querulous whining which 
told me he had found his mother and had re- 
sumed his customary appeal to her sympathy. 



1 1 6 Johnny Bear 



It is quite a common thing for Bears to spank 
their cubs when they need it, and if Grumpy 
had disciplined Johnny this way, it would have 
saved them both a deal of worry. 

Perhaps not a day passed, that summer, with- 
out Grumpy getting into trouble on Johnn3''s 
account. But of all these numerous occasions 
the most ignominious was shortly after the 
affair with the Grizzly. 

I first heard the story from three bronzed 
mountaineers. As they were very sensitive 
about having their word doubted, and very 
good shots with the revolver, I believed every 
word they told me, especially when afterward 
fully indorsed by the Park authorities. 

It seemed that of all the tinned goods on the 
pile the nearest to Johnny's taste were marked 
with a large purple plum. This conclusion he 
had arrived at only after most exhaustive study. 
The very odor of those plums in Johnny's nos- 
trils was the equivalent of ecstasy. So when 
it came about one day that the cook of the 
Hotel baked a huge batch of plum-tarts, the 
telltale wind took the story afar into the woods, 
where it was wafted by way of Johnny's nos- 
trils to his very soul. 



Johnny Bear 117 

Of course Johnny was whimpering at the 
time. His mother was busy '' washing his face 
and combing his hair," so he had double cause 
for whimpering. But the smell of the tarts 
thrilled him ; he jumped up, and when his 
mother tried to hold him he squalled, and I am 
afraid — he bit her. She should have cuffed 
him, but she did not. She only gave a disap- 
proving growl, and followed to see that he 
came to no harm. 

With his little black nose in the wind, Johnny 
led straight for the kitchen. He took the pre- 
caution, however, of climbing from time to 
time to the very top of a pine-tree lookout to 
take an observation, while Grumpy stayed 
below. 

Thus they came close to the kitchen, and 
there, in the last tree, Johnny's courage as a 
leader gave out, so he remained aloft and ex- 
pressed his hankering for tarts in a woe-begone 
wail. 

It is not likely that Grumpy knew exactly 
what her son was crying for. But it is sure 
that as soon as she showed an inclination to go 
back into the pines, Johnny protested in such 
an outrageous and heartrending screeching that 
his mother simply could not leave him, and he 
showed no sign of coming down to be led away 



ii8 Johmiy Bear 

Grumpy herself was fond of plum-jam. The 
odor was now, of course, very strong and pro- 
portionately alluring ; so Grumpy followed it 
somewhat cautiously up to the kitchen door. 

There was nothing surprising about this. 
The rule of '' live and let live " is so strictly en- 
forced in the Park that the Bears often come to 
the kitchen door for pickings, and on getting 
something, they go quietly back to the woods. 
Doubtless Johnny and Grumpy would each 
have gotten their tart but that a new factor ap- 
peared in the case. 

That week the Hotel people had brought a 
new Cat from the East. She was not much 
more than a kitten, but still had a litter of her 
own, and at the moment that Grumpy reached 
the door, the Cat and her family were sunning 
themselves on the top step. Pussy opened her 
eyes to see this huge, shaggy monster towering 
above her. 

The Cat had never before seen a Bear — she 
had not been there long enough ; she did not 
know even what a Bear was. She knew what 
a Dog was, and here was a bigger, more awful 
bobtailed black dog than ever she had dreamed 
of coming right at her. Her first thought was 
to fly for her life. But her next was for the 
kittens. She must take care of them. She 



Johnny Bear 119 

must at least cover their retreat. So, like a 

brave little mother, she braced herself on that 

door-step, and spreading her back, her claws, 

her tail, and everything she had to spread, she 

screamed out at that Bear an unmistakable 

order to 

STOP! 

The language must have been '' Cat,'* but 
the meaning was clear to the Bear ; for those 
who saw it maintain stoutly that Grumpy not 
only stopped, but she also conformed to the 
custom of the country and in token of surren- 
der held up her hands. 

However, the position she thus took made 
her so high that the Cat seemed tiny in the dis- 
tance below. Old Grumpy had faced a Grizzly 
once, and was she now to be held up by a mis- 
erable little spike-tailed skunk no bigger than 
a mouthful? She was ashamed of herself, es- 
pecially when a wail from Johnny smote on 
her ear and reminded her of her plain duty, as 
well as supplied his usual moral support. 

So she dropped down on her front feet to 
proceed. 

Again the Cat shrieked, '' STOP ! " 

But Grumpy ignored the command. A 
scared mew from a kitten nerved the Cat, and 
she launched her ultimatum, which ultimatum 



I20 John7iy Bear 

was herself. Eighteen sharp claws, a mouth- 
ful of keen teeth, had Pussy, and she worked 
all with a desperate will when she landed on 
Grumpy's bare, bald, sensitive nose, just the 
spot of all where the Bear could not stand it, 
and then worked backward to a point outside 
the sweep of Grumpy's claws. After one or 
two vain attempts to shake the spotted fury 
off, old Grumpy did just as most creatures 
would have done under the circumstances: she 
turned tail and bolted out of the enemy's coun- 
try into her own woods. 

But Puss's fighting blood was up. She was 
not content Avith repelling the enemy ; she 
wanted to inflict a crushing defeat ; to achieve 
an absolute and final rout. And however fast 
old Grumpy might go, it did not count, for the 
Cat was still on top, working her teeth and claws 
like a little demon. Grumpy, always erratic, 
now became panic-stricken. The trail of the 
pair was flecked with tufts of long black hair, 
and there was even bloodshed (in the fiftieth 
degree). Honor surely was satisfied, but Pussy 
was not. Round and round they had gone in 
the mad race. Grumpy was frantic, absolutely 
humiliated, and ready to make any terms ; but 
Pussy seemed deaf to her cough-like yelps, and 
no one knows how far the Cat might have 



Johnny Bear 121 

ridden that day had not Johnny unwittingly 
put a new idea into his mother's head by bawl- 
ing in his best style from the top of his last 
tree, which tree Grumpy made for and scram- 
bled up. 

This was so clearly the enemy's country and 
in view of his reinforcements that the Cat 
wisely decided to follow no farther. She 
jumped from the climbing Bear to the ground, 
and then mounted sentry-guard below, march- 
ing around with tail in the air, daring that Bear 
to come down. Then the kittens came out and 
sat around, and enjoyed it all hugely. And the 
mountaineers assured me that the Bears would 
have been kept up the tree till they were 
starved, had not the cook of the Hotel come 
out and called off his Cat — although this state- 
ment was not among those vouched for by the 
officers of the Park. 

VI 

The last time I saw. Johnny he was in the top 
of a tree, bewailing his unhappy lot as usual, 
while his mother was dashing about among the 
pines, '' with a chip on her shoulder," seeking 
for some one — any one — that she could punish 
for Johnny's sake, provided, of course, that it 
was not a big Grizzly or a Mother Cat. 



122 Johnny Bear 

This was early in August, but there were not 
lacking symptoms of change in old Grumpy. 
She was always reckoned '' onsartain," and her 
devotion to Johnny seemed subject to her char- 
acteristic. This perhaps accounted for the fact 
that when the end of the month w^as near, 
Johnny would sometimes spend half a day in 
the top of some tree, alone, miserable, and 
utterly unheeded. 

The last chapter of his history came to pass 
after I had left the region. One day at gray 
dawn he was tagging along behind his mother 
as she prowled in the rear of the Hotel. A 
newly hired Irish girl was already astir in the 
kitchen. On looking out she saw, as she 
thought, a Calf where it should not be, and ran 
to shoo it away. That open kitchen door still 
held unmeasured terrors for Grumpy, and she 
ran in such alarm that Johnny caught the in- 
fection, and not being able to keep up with her, 
he made for the nearest tree, which unfortu- 
nately turned out to be a post, and soon — too 
soon — he arrived at its top, some seven feet 
from the ground, and there poured forth his 
woes on the chilly morning air, while Grum- 
py apparently felt justified in continuing her 
flight alone. When the girl came near and saw 
that she had treed some wild animal, she was 



Johnny Bear 123 

as much frightened as her victim. But others 
of the kitchen staff appeared, and recognizing 
the vociferous Johnny, they decided to make 
him a prisoner. 

A collar and chain were brought, and after 
a struggle, during which several of the men 
got well scratched, the collar was buckled on 
Johnny's neck and the chain made fast to the 
post. 

When he found that he was held, Johnny 
was simply too mad to scream. He bit and 
scratched and tore till he was tired out. Then 
he lifted up his voice again to call his mother. 
She did appear once or twice in the distance, 
but could not make up her mind to face that 
Cat, so disappeared, and Johnny was left to his 
fate. 

He put in the most of that day in alternate 
struggling and crying. Toward evening he 
was worn out, and glad to accept the meal that 
was brought by Norah, who felt herself called 
on to play mother, since she had chased his 
own mother away. 

When night came it was very cold ; but 
Johnny nearly froze at the top of the post be- 
fore he would come down and accept the warm 
bed provided at the bottom. 

During the days that followed, Grumpy 



124 Johnny Bear 

came often to the garbage-heap, but soon ap- 
parently succeeded in forgetting all about her 
son. He was daily tended by Norah, and re- 
ceived all his meals from her. He also received 
something else ; for one day he scratched her 
when she brought his food, and she very prop- 
erly spanked him till he squealed. For a few 
hours he sulked ; he was not used to such 
treatment. But hunger subdued him, and 
thenceforth he held his new guardian in whole- 
some respect. She, too, began to take an inter- 
est in the poor motherless little wretch, and 
within a fortnight Johnny showed signs of de- 
veloping a new character. He was much less 
noisy. He still expressed his hunger in a 
whining Er-r-r Er-r-r Er-r-r, but he rarely 
squealed now, and his unruly outbursts entirely 
ceased. 

By the third week of September the change 
was still more marked. Utterly abandoned by 
his own mother, all his interest had centred in 
Norah, and she had fed and spanked him into 
an exceedingly well-behaved little Bear. Some- 
times she would allow him a taste of freedom, 
and he then showed his bias by making, not 
for the woods, but for the kitchen where she 
was, and following her around on his hind legs. 
Here also he made the acquaintance of that 



Johnny Bear 125 

dreadful Cat ; but Johnny had a powerful friend 
now, and Pussy finally became reconciled to 
the black, woolly interloper. 

As the Hotel was to be closed in October, 
there was talk of turning Johnny loose or of 
sending him to the Washington Zoo ; but 
Norah had claims that she would not forego. 

When the frosty nights of late September 
came, Johnny had greatly improved in his 
manners, but he had also developed a bad 
cough. An examination of his lame leg had 
shown that the weakness was not in the foot, 
but much more deeply seated, perhaps in the 
hip, and that meant a feeble and tottering con- 
stitution. 

He did not get fat, as do most Bears in fall ; 
indeed, he continued to fail. His little round 
belly shrank in, his cough became worse, and 
one morning he was found very sick and shiv- 
ering in his bed by the post. Norah brought 
him indoors, where the warmth helped him so 
much that thenceforth he lived in the kitchen. 

For a few days he seemed better, and his old- 
time pleasure in seeing things revived. The 
great blazing fire in the range particularly ap- 
pealed to him, and made him sit up in his old 
attitude when the opening of the door brought 
the wonder to view. After a week he lost in- 



126 Johwiy Bear 

terest even in that, and drooped more and 
more each day. Finally not the most exciting 
noises or scenes around him could stir up his 
old fondness for seeing what was going on. 

He coughed a good deal, too, and seemed 
wretched, except when in Norah's lap. Here 
he would cuddle up contentedly, and whine 
most miserably when she had to set him down 
again in his basket. 

A few days before the closing of the Hotel, 
he refused his usual breakfast, and whined softly 
till Norah took him in her lap ; then he feebly 
snuggled up to her, and his soft Er-r-r Er-r-r 
grew fainter, till it ceased. Half an hour later, 
when she laid him down to go about her work, 
Little Johnny had lost the last trace of his anx- 
iety to see and know what was going on. 







chink: 

THE DEVELOPMENT OF A PUP 



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CHINK : 

THE DEVELOPMENT OF A PUP 



CHINK was just old enough to think him- 
self a very remarkable little Dog ; and 
so he was, but not in the way he fondly 
imagined. He was neither fierce nor dreadful, 
strong nor swift, but he w^as one of the noisiest, 
best-natured, silliest Pups that ever chewed his 
master's boots to bits. His master. Bill Au- 
brey, was an old mountaineer who was camped 
below Garnet Peak in the Yellowstone Park, 
This is in a very quiet corner, far from the 
usual line of travel, and Bill's camp, before ours 
came, would have been a very lonely place but 
for his companion, this irrepressible, woolly 
coated little Dog. 

Chink was never still for five minutes. In- 
deed, he would do anything he was told to do 
except keep still. He was always trying to do 
some absurd and impossible thing, or, if he did 
attempt the possible, he usually spoiled his 

129 



130 Chink 

best eflfort by his way of going about it. He 
once spent a whole morning trying to run up a 
tall, straight pine-tree in whose branches was a 
snickering Pine Squirrel. 

The darling ambition of his life for some 
weeks was to catch one of the Picket-pin Go- 
phers that swarmed on the prairie about the 
camp. These little animals have a trick of sit- 
ting bolt upright on their hind legs, with their 
paws held close in, so that at a distance they 
look exactly like picket-pins. Often when we 
went out to picket our horses for the night we 
would go toward a Gopher, thinking it was a 
picket-pin already driven in, and would find 
out the mistake only when it dived into the 
ground with a defiant chirrup. 

Chink had determined to catch one of these 
Gophers the very first day he came into the 
valley. Of course he went about it in his own 
original way, doing everything wrong end first, 
as usual. This, his master said, was due to a 
streak of Irish in his make-up. So Chink would 
begin a most elaborate stalk a quarter of a mile 
from the Gopher. After crawling on his breast 
from tussock to tussock for a hundred yards or 
so, the nervous strain became too great, and 
Chink, getting too much excited to crawl, 
would rise on his feet and walk straight toward 



Chink 131 

the Gopher, which would now be sitting up by 
its hole, fully alive to the situation. 

After a minute or two of this very open ap- 
proach, Chink's excitement would overpower 
all caution. He would begin running, and at 
the last, just as he should have done his finest 
stalking, he would go bounding and barking 
toward the Gopher, which would sit like a peg 
of wood till the proper moment, then dive be- 
low with a derisive chirrup, throwing with its 
hind feet a lot of sand right into Chink's eager, 
open mouth. 

Day after day this went on with level same- 
ness, and still Chink did not give up. Per- 
severance, he seemed to believe, must surely 
win in the end, as indeed it did. For one day 
he made an unusually elaborate stalk after an 
unusually fine Gopher, carried out all his 
absurd tactics, finishing with the grand, bois- 
terous charge, and actually caught his victim ; 
but this time it happened to be a wooden 
picket-pin. Any one who doubts that a Dog 
knows when he has made a fool of himself 
should have seen Chink that day as he sheep- 
ishly sneaked out of sight behind the tent. 

But failure had no lasting effect on Chink. 
There was a streak of grit as well as Irish in 
him that carried him through every reverse, 



132 Chink 

and nothing could dash his good-nature. He 
was into everything with the maximum of 
energy and the minimum of discretion, de- 
lighted as long as he could be always up and 
doing. 

Every passing wagon and horseman and 
grazing Calf had to be chivvied, and if the Cat 
from the guard-house strayed by, Chink felt 
that it was a solemn duty he owed to the sol- 
diers, the Cat, and himself to chase her home 
at frightful speed. He would dash twenty 
times a day after an old hat that Bill used 
deliberately to throw into a Wasps' nest with 
the order, " Fetch it ! " 

It took time, but countless disasters began 
to tell. Chink slowly realized that there were 
long whips and big, fierce Dogs with wagons ; 
that Horses have teeth in their heels ; that 
Calves have relatives with clubs on their heads ; 
that a slow^ Cat may turn out a Skunk ; and 
that Wasps are not Butterflies. Yes, it took an 
uncommonly long time, but it all told in the 
end. Chink began to develop a grain — a little 
one, but a living, growimg grain — of good Dog 
sense. 



Chink 133 



II 

It seemed as if all his blunders were the 
rough, unsymmetrical stones of an arch, and the 
keystone was added, the structure, his charac- 
ter, made strong and complete, by his crown- 
ing blunder in the matter of a large Coyote. 

This Coyote lived not far from our camp, 
and he evidently realized, as all the animals 
there do, that no man is allowed to shoot, trap, 
hunt, or in any way molest the wild creatures 
in the Park ; above all, in this part, close to the 
military patrol, with soldiers always on watch. 
Secure in the knowledge of this, the Coyote 
used to come about the camp each night for 
scraps. At first I found only his tracks in the 
dust, as though he had circled the camp but 
feared to come very near. Then we began to 
hear his weird evening song just after sundown, 
or about sun-up. At length his track was plain 
in the dust about the scrap-bucket each morn- 
ing when I went out to learn from the trail 
what animals had been there during the night. 
Then growing bolder, he came about the camp 
occasionally in the daytime. Shyly at first, but 
with increasing assurance, as he was satisfied 
of his immunity, until finally he was not only 
there every night, but seemed to hang around 



134 Chink 

nearly all day, sneaking in to steal whatever 
was eatable, or sitting in plain view on some 
rising ground at a distance. 

One morning, as he sat on a bank some fifty 
yards away, one of us, in a spirit of mischief, 
said to Chink : '' Chink, do you see that Coyote 
over there grinning at you ? Go and chase him 
out of that/' 

Chink always did as he was told, and burning 
to distinguish himself, he dashed after the Co- 
yote, who loped lightly away, and there was a 
pretty good race for a quarter of a mile ; but it 
was nothing to the race which began when the 
Coyote turned on his pursuer. 

Chink realized all at once that he had been 
lured into the power of a Tartar, and strained 
every muscle to get back to camp. The Coyote 
was swifter, and soon overtook the Dog, nip- 
ping him first on one side, then on the other, 
with manifest glee, as if he were cracking a 
series of good jokes at Chink's expense. 

Chink yelped and howled and ran his hard- 
est, but had no respite from his tormentor till 
he dashed right into camp ; and we, I am 
afraid, laughed with the Coyote, and the Puppy 
did not get the sympathy he deserved for his 
trouble in doing as he was told. 

One more experience like this, on a smaller 



Chink 135 

scale was enough to dampen even Chink's en- 
thusiasm. He decided to let that Coyote very 
much alone in future. 

Not so the Coyote, however. He had discov- 
ered a new and delightful amusement. He 
came daily noAV and hung about the camp, 
knowing perfectly well that no one would dare 
to shoot him. Indeed, the lock of every gun 
in the party was sealed up by the government 
officials, and soldiers were everywhere on watch 
to enforce the laws. 

Thenceforth that Coyote lay in wait for poor 
Chink, and sought every opportunity to tease 
him. The little Dog learned that if he went a 
hundred yards from camp alone, the Coyote 
would go after him, and bite and chase him 
right back to his master's tent. 

Day after day this went on, until at last 
Chink's life was made a misery to him. He 
did not dare now to go fifty yards from the 
tent alone; and even if he went with us when 
we rode, that fierce and impudent Coyote was 
sure to turn up and come along, trotting close 
beside or behind, watching for a chance to 
worry poor Chink and spoiling all his pleasure 
in the ramble, but keeping just out of reach oi 
our quirts, or a little farther off when we stopped 
to pick up some stones. 



136 Chink 

One day Aubrey moved his camp a mile up- 
stream, and we saw less of the Coyote, for the 
reason that he moved a mile up-stream too, 
and, like all bullies who are unopposed, grew 
more insolent and tyrannical every day, until 
poor little Chink's life became at last a veri- 
table reign of terror, at which his master merely 
laughed. 

Aubrey gave it out that he had moved camp 
to get better Horse-feed. It soon turned out, 
however, that he wanted to be alone while he 
enjoyed the contents of a whiskey-flask that he 
had obtained somewhere. But one flask was 
a mere starter for him. The second day he 
mounted his Horse, said, '' Chink, you watch 
the tent,'' and rode away over the mountains to 
the nearest saloon, leaving Chink obediently 
curled up on some sacking. 



Ill 

Now, with all his puppyish silliness. Chink 
was a faithful watch-dog, and his master knew 
that he would take care of the tent as well as 
he could. 

Late that afternoon a passing mountaineer 
came along. When he was within shouting 



Chink 137 

distance he stopped, as is customary, and 
shouted : 

-Hello there, Bill! Oh, BiU!'^ 

But getting no answer, he went up to the 
door, and there was met by ^* an odd-looking 
Purp with his bristles all on end ; '' and Chink, 
for of course it was he, warned him in many 
fierce growls to keep away. 

The mountaineer understood the situation 
and went on. Evening came, and no master 
to relieve Chink, who was now getting very 
hungry. 

There was some bacon in the tent wrapped 
in a bag, but that was sacred. His master had 
told him to '' watch it," and Chink would have 
starved rather than touch it. 

He ventured out on the flat in hope of find- 
ing a mouse or something to stay the pangs of 
hunger, when suddenly he was pounced on by 
that brute of a Coyote, and the old chase was 
repeated as Chink dashed back to the tent. 

There a change came over him. The re- 
membrance of his duty seemed suddenly to 
alter him and brace him up, just as the cry 
of her Kitten will turn a timid Cat into a 
Tigress. 

He was a mere Puppy yet, and a little fool 
in many ways, but away back of all was a fibre 



138 Chink 

of strength that would grow with his years. 
The moment that Coyote tried to follow into 
the tent, — his master's tent, — Chink forgot all 
his own fears, and turned on the enemy like a 
little demon. 

The beasts feel the force of right and wrong. 
They know moral courage and cowardice. The 
moral force was all with the little scared Dog, 
and both animals seemed to know it. The 
Coyote backed off, growling savagely, and vow- 
ing, in Coyote fashion, to tear that Dog to rib- 
bons very soon. All the same, he did not vent- 
ure to enter the tent, as he clearly had intended 
doing. 

Then began a literal siege ; for the Coyote 
came back every little while, and walked round 
the tent, scratching contemptuously with his 
hind feet, or marching up to the open door, to 
be met at once, face to face, by poor little 
Chink, who, really half dead with fear, was 
brave again as soon as he saw any attempt to 
injure the things in his charge. 

All this time Chink had nothing to eat. He 
could slip out and get a drink at the near-by 
stream once or twice a day, but he could not 
get a meal in that way. He could have torn a 
hole in the sack and eaten some bacon, but he 
would not, for that was in trust; or he could 



Chink 139 

have watched his chance to desert his post, and 
sneaked off to our camp, where he would have 
been sure of a good meal. But no ; adversity 
had developed the true Dog in him. He would 
not betray his master's trust in any way. He 
was ready to die at his post, if need be, while 
that master was away indulging in a drunken 
carouse. 

For four days and four nights of misery did 
this heroic little Dog keep his place, and keep 
tent and stuff from the Coyote that he held in 
mortal terror. 

On the fifth morning old Aubrey had awa- 
kened to the fact that he was not at home, and 
that his camp in the mountains was guarded 
only by a small Dog. He was tired of his spree 
now, and he got on his Horse and set out over 
the hills, sober but very shaky. When he was 
about half-way on the trail it suddenly dawned 
on his clouded brain that he had left Chink 
without any food. 

" Hope the little beast hain't spoiled all my 
bacon," he thought, and he pressed on more 
briskly till he came to the ridge commanding a 
view of his tent. There it was, and there at 
the door, exchanging growls and snapping at 
each other, were the big, fierce Coyote and poor 
little Chink. 



140 Chink 

** Wal, I be darned!" exclaimed Aubrev. 
'' I forgot all about that blasted Coyote. Poor 
Chink ! he must *a' had a mighty tough time. 
Wonder he ain't all chawed up an' the camp 
in tatters." 

There he was, bravely making his last stand. 
His legs were tottering under him with fear 
and hunger, but he still put on his boldest face, 
and was clearly as ready as ever to die in de- 
fence of the camp. 

The cold gray eyes of the mountaineer took 
in this part of the situation at the first glance, 
and when he galloped up and saw the un- 
touched bacon, he realized that Chink had 
eaten nothing since he left. When the Puppy, 
trembling with fear and weakness, crawled up 
and looked in his face and licked his hand as 
much as to say, '' I've done w^hat you told me," 
it was too much for old Aubrey. The tears 
stood in his eyes as he hastened to get food for 
the little hero. 

Then he turned to him and said : '' Chink, 
old pard, I've treated you dirty, an' you always 
treated me white. I'll never go on another 
spree without takin' you along. Chink, an' I'll 
treat you as white as you treated me, if I know 
how. 'Tain't much more I kin do for you, 
pard, since ye don't drink, but I reckon I kin 




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Trembling with Fear and Weakness, He was 
Making his Last Stand. 



Chink 141 

lift the biggest worry out o' yer life, an* I'll do 
it, too." 

Then from the ridge-pole he took down the 
pride of his heart, his treasured repeating rifle, 
and, regardless of consequences, he broke the 
government seals, wax eagles, red tape, and all 
and went to the door. 

The Coyote was sitting off a little way with 
a Mephistophelian grin on his face, as usual ; 
but the rifle rang, and Chink's reign of terror 
was at an end. 

What matter if the soldiers did come out and 
find that the laws of the Park had been violated, 
that Aubrey had shot one of the animals of the 
Park? 

What matter to Aubrey if his gun was taken 
from him and destroyed, and he and his outfit 
expelled from the Park, with a promise of being 
jailed if ever he returned ? What did it all 
matter ? 

" It's all right," said old Aubrey. '' I done 
the sqar' thing by my pard — my pard, that al- 
ways treated me white." 



MAR 14 1902 



J'JAK. 14 1902 



" \y,^i<^ 













LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 








IPS '-ivr'i 







